Second Chances
by Agent Sculder
Summary: Four years after the events of "Happy Birthday", a series of dreams prompts Dean to check up on Kate. Sam's along for the ride too. Is Kate in physical danger or is the real risk something far more complicated? Dean/OFC story.
1. Chapter 1

As with all fan fiction, this is not for profit, and these characters mostly don't belong to me!

**This story is a sequel to my previous Supernatural stories "Happy Birthday" & "Happy Birthday to Me". While this story may occasionally call back to them, I think you should still be able to enjoy it without having read them. I do ask that you be gentle since I'm setting this story in the present, despite the fact I haven't watched season 8! (In case you're wondering why: I didn't get into the show until last year, and by the time I caught up, season 8 was under way.) If it helps, just think of this as an alternative! Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, please write a review.**

* * *

The miles and scenery clicked by at a blistering pace as Dean Winchester steered his beloved (and newly repaired) Impala down the interstate. To his immediate right sat his younger brother and longtime road companion Sam. He glanced over at him, taking his eyes off the road for just a moment, and then reached down to grab a tape because the only station that would come in sucked. He fumbled the tape, and Sam sprang into action.

"Let me get that, Dean. You just concentrate on driving. Although generally you don't drive like this unless there's an imminent Apocalypse," he wryly observed as the speedometer inched ever closer to 100. Wherever they were headed, Dean was going to get them there in a hurry. He wouldn't say much about it other than after a series of dreams, he knew that they HAD to get to a little town called Clearwater in Iowa. They had undertaken jobs under weirder circumstances and with even less intel, and so after wrapping up their latest mission, the boys had set off.

The name of the town sounded vaguely familiar to Sam, but when you've traveled back and forth the USA as often as he had with Dean, ALL of the towns started to sound familiar. Look familiar too.

He knew better than to ask Dean for specifics about his dreams. But for Dean to have insisted on making this their next job, and for him to be driving this way told him enough. They had to have been pretty terrible. He only wished Dean would be more forthcoming so he could help him to prepare. Maybe even do some research. But at this point, Sam knew that Dean wasn't in a sharing mode, and when he was that way he'd only dig in his heels more if he pestered his brother too much to give up details. He'd eventually come around when he was ready.

Sam popped in the tape that Dean had grabbed earlier and hoped that the music would help Dean relax a bit. A tense, agitated Dean was not a good thing. Especially if they were about to enter into yet another epic battle. At least, he mused, they were back together. It was always easier to face the creepy crawlies and monsters with Dean by his side. Working alone had never really worked out well for him.

For his part, Dean continued to expertly pilot the car, all the while feeling rather guilty about this trip. He'd been deliberately vague, knowing that Sam would assume that his dreams were of the nightmare variety.

Yeah, not so much.

But then again, he'd been having them for YEARS now, and they'd only gotten more intense and more frequent in the past couple of weeks. Clearly, something was up, and maybe if he saw her again, the dreams would stop.

He'd been wracking his memory, trying to come with a possible explanation for why he continued to have erotic dreams about a long ago one night stand. He pictured her and her little house, and nothing about them had given off an otherworldly vibe. If anything, they had been rather aggressively normal. Maybe she was a witch or something. But that didn't fit with the woman he remembered.

However he did remind himself for the umpteenth time, just because he knew her in the biblical sense, didn't mean he really _knew_ her. They had only been together a few hours at most, and at least a couple of them had been spent sleeping. He'd been wrong before about women (and oh boy HAD he), but he liked to think he could still tell civilians apart from people like himself.

A part of him was looking forward to seeing her again, not the usual emotion he had when he thought about the women he'd been with. If pressed, he might even admit to being a bit nervous. It had been more than four years ago. She could be married for all he knew. She could have a kid.

Maybe it was just the angels fucking with him. Again. Some more. It was just the sort of indirect, cryptic shit they seemed to enjoy so much. And he had to admit, there were worse ways for them to get his attention. The dreams were far preferable to dealing with them in person. He couldn't stand those fuckers. Castiel being the lone exception.

Dean drummed the steering wheel along with the music as it blasted through the speakers. Was there any better driving music than the Black Album at full volume? Not that he'd come across. He kept his foot firmly on the accelerator, propelling them forward into the bright sunshine.

To be fair, not ALL of them had been sex dreams. Occasionally, the two of them had just talked and done normal stuff. The kind of stuff he'd done with Lisa; like making dinner or watching TV. But with the woman in his dreams, it had felt different, more intimate somehow. Sometimes the dreams replayed that night in the bar and later in her bedroom. Sometimes it was just the two of them doing all the stuff he'd never gotten to do but had wanted to do to her. The shower one was a particular favorite.

He tried to remember when the dreams had started, and he wasn't having much luck. They'd been going on so long, he'd grown to expect them from time to time. They'd actually been one of the few things he had looked forward to because without fail, they had been one of the few consistently pleasant experiences in his life. But after a solid week straight of dreaming of nothing but her and dealing with the subsequent morning wood, it was time to do something about it. Thank whatever deity of your choice they were only about an hour away.

* * *

It was little after noon on a bright Saturday morning when they arrived in the small town. It looked like most mid-western towns; with a nice little main street area, and on the outskirts had been some farms and a corporate complex that looked like it belonged to a manufacturing business of some sort. A large banner hanging across the center of the main drag welcomed spring and proclaimed the resumption of the farmers' market. On Saturdays, from 10 AM until 2 PM, as it so happened.

It didn't look like the kind of place that evil forces would intrude on, but what place ever did?

"Sam, what do you say we check out the farmers market?"

Dean remembered that she told him that she sold her baked goods there. He figured that was better than just showing up on her doorstep. That might freak her out. Plus, if she had gotten married, she might not even live there anymore.

Sam looked at his brother like he had a second head growing out from his shoulders. "Dean, you realize a farmers market is primarily a place where people sell fruit and vegetables, right?" Sam was immediately suspicious. The chance that Dean wanted to consume non-processed food was about the same as the Powers That Be leaving them alone and letting them lead normal lives.

Thinking quickly Dean responded, "I know, Sam. But I think we might find the person we're looking for there, that's all. In a place like this, I bet it's a big event. Probably the whole place turns out to either sell or buy stuff."

OK, so Dean did have a good point there. It was the sort of thing that people in small towns went to. "Did your dreams tell you to look there?" he asked, honestly curious.

Dean answered truthfully. "Not exactly. But it seems like a logical place to start looking."

"And who or what are we looking for, Dean? Spill it," Sam demanded.

"Let me find a good place to park first," Dean replied as they pulled into the farmers market. There were a lot of cars, indicating it was pretty popular. A little ways off, Sam could see people milling around the various booths. Brightly colored balloons dangled from the wrists of little kids clutching the hands of their parents. All in all, it was a scene straight from an idealized version of an American small town that the Winchesters had little experience with. Monsters they knew and were comfortable with. Normal life was something they only something with which they had a passing acquaintance.

As was his custom, Dean parked a ways apart from the other cars, making sure no one could accidentally ding the Impala when they threw their car door open. Together they walked toward the park where the market had been set up. Once they arrived, Dean and Sam wandered among the crowds; Dean constantly scanning the people to make sure he didn't miss her. And since Sam had no idea who they were looking for, he just decided to check out what was for sale.

While sure enough, most of the people were selling organic fruits and veggies, but there were also small stands where people were selling handicrafts. One lady was even selling pottery and glass art objects. Off to one side, there was one booth he couldn't see very well since there was a wall of people standing in front of it. Eventually one of the patrons moved aside, and Sam was able to get a glimpse of table. It looked like a bake sale!

It was probably a benefit for the local high school or something. He moved in closer to get a better look, figuring he'd pick up something that he could share with Dean. As he approached he realized it wasn't a bake sale at all. Instead of a hand-written sign proclaiming who the beneficiaries of the profits would be, there was a professional one that read: "Kate's Treats – Celebrating 4 Years" listing the address as 15 Western Avenue.

There were a couple of teenagers manning the booth, along with someone he assumed was their supervisor. He couldn't see her very well because at the moment her back was turned to him. Her curly brown hair was drawn into a low pony tail, and she was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans that sagged a bit, like they were a size too big. She yanked them up, and turned around catching his gaze almost immediately.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked politely.

"Just looking for now," he answered. Then he decided to ask a probably stupid question, considering the brisk business the booth was doing. "What's good?"

She took the question in stride, her eyes lighting up behind her glasses. She was pretty, he reflected. Not a knockout or anything, but she had a nice face. She gave him a little smile just as she asked him a question in return. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"You got me. I'm here with my brother. We're visiting, and when he saw the sign for the farmers market, he insisted we stop by to check things out," Sam explained easily.

"Thanks for stopping by. I hope you both enjoy your stay in town. Allow me to be the first person to welcome you to Clearwater, Iowa," she said kindly. She paused a moment and then added, "I hope you guys are staying with someone in town. You don't want anything to do with the motel on the county road."

Sam couldn't help chuckling to himself a bit, knowing that was exactly where he and Dean would be bunking that night. He was about to concoct a story about visiting an aunt for the lady's benefit when he heard a very familiar voice call his name.

"Sammy, what are you doin'? I almost lost you in this crowd, and you're freakin' enormous! You'd think they were giving the stuff away!"

Sam cringed a bit, about to apologize for his dumb ass brother when he noticed that the nice lady seemed to be as perturbed as he was. She quickly pushed her glasses back, and tucked a stray hair that had escaped her pony tail behind her ear. She then dropped her head down a bit, like she was trying to hide it.

He heard her mumble that she had to excuse herself and that one of her girls would help him, and she abruptly turned away just as Dean slid in next to him.

Instead of checking out all the goodies neatly laid out on the table, Dean's sole focus was on behind the counter. He was staring intently at the woman who had just stepped away from him.

"Kate?"

That must have been her name because she turned back around, her eyes closed in an extended blink.

"Yes, can I help you?" she replied as sweet as ever, but underneath her words there was a slight edge.

The words just hung in the air between her and his brother for a moment. Sam looked between the two of them. Her face was a mixture of unease and wistfulness. For his part, Dean's face was hard, using the inscrutable expression he always used when he was trying to conceal his real emotions. Clearly, these two had a history.

"Kate, it's me. Dean Winchester," his brother responded, his voice almost willing her to remember him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really busy right now. I don't have time to talk," she replied, her voice flat. She turned away again, signaling that the conversation was over, but then she turned back, like she immediately regretted what she just said. "Why don't you come back after 2 when the market is over?"

Dean nodded and thrust his hands in his pockets, replying "OK. See you then." And then he wandered away. Feeling like a dumbass, Sam had no choice but to follow him. What the hell had just happened there?

Kate Hager's heart was beating about a million miles an hour, and she took deep breaths to calm herself down. The last thing she had expected to see this morning when she had gotten herself ready was HIM. Dean. The man who had so thoroughly rocked her world four years ago.

A lot had changed since then. Not long after Dean had disappeared from her life, she decided it was time to stop doing a job she disliked even though she was very good at it. She quit her job and gathered up her courage and her savings and applied for a small business loan and opened a bakery. The loan officer had initially been hesitant, saying something about be concerned about her "decision making" skills, but she had developed a well thought out business plan, and it had been impossible for him to turn her down.

Her one night stand with Dean had made the rounds among the adults in town, and for a couple of months she endured stares at the grocery store and local Walgreen's. It was like suddenly everyone expected her to start sleeping with every male over eighteen within the town limits. At one point she was tempted to start wearing a scarlet "S" on her chest. But she defied the town gossips and stayed far away from Lucky's, and just went about her business. By the time the bakery opened, everyone had moved on to the far juicier story about the star football player getting his girlfriend the head cheerleader knocked up.

And now he was back, from God knows wherever he had been for the last four years. His last name was Winchester, like the rifle. And it turned out he had a brother. A really TALL brother who had claimed they were in town "visiting". Were they here to see her?

She shook her head. They couldn't possibly be here to see her. Dean had probably been with a lot of women since her. Frankly, she was impressed he even remembered her name. As much as that night had meant to her, she doubted she'd made that much of an impression. Just another in a long line of hookups. Although maybe the fact she'd been a virgin made her stand out a bit.

He looked almost exactly the same. Maybe there were a few more worry lines around his eyes, but aside from that he appeared to be unchanged. His wardrobe was even the same. He was still the most breathtaking male she'd ever seen in person.

"Miss Hager, you know that guy?" asked Emily, one of her assistants, knocking her back into the present.

She nodded, figuring it was better to acknowledge Dean's existence than try to pretend he'd just been a really vivid hallucination.

"You go, Miss Hager. He's a hottie!" Emily enthused.

"And did you see that guy who was with him? I think he said he was the other guy's brother. He's fine too. He's gotta be like 6'5"!" said Rayna, her other helper for the day excitedly.

Their enthusiasm was contagious, and she couldn't help smiling. From their perspective, Kate was a lucky lady. If only they knew how weird this situation was. Even though a good part of her was thrilled to see him again, this was not an expected turn of events. "Ladies, let's just concentrate on the task at hand, and try to get everything sold before 2, OK?" she replied, trying to use her most professional voice, wanting to set a good example for the teenage girls. If she got carried away, they would get carried away, and next thing she knew she'd be spilling her guts to them.

"I don't know, Miss Hager. If I was you I'd be going back home and getting myself fixed up before they come back," Emily said. "Rayna and I can handle the stand while you're gone. Right, Ray?" She elbowed her partner, and she shook her head emphatically in the affirmative.

"That's OK, girls. Dean and I are just old friends," she lied. "He's not worth going to all that trouble."

The two of them looked at her like she had lost her damn mind. And Kate was starting to feel like just maybe she had.

* * *

Sam convinced Dean that since they weren't going to be able to talk to Kate for at least another hour, they might as well get something to eat. Normally the mention of food never failed to get Dean's ass in gear. It was a cheap trick, Sam knew, but perhaps over a cheeseburger he could get his brother to open up a bit.

Dean agreed, and they found a small café on Main Street that looked like it would be OK. It wasn't busy, but the aroma pouring out of the place was good. Always a good sign.

A sign said, "Seat Yourself", and they obliged, choosing a booth by the window that also provided one of them an unobstructed view of the front door, and the other a direct view into the kitchen. John Winchester may have not always been the most nurturing parent on the planet, but he had made sure his boys had learned their lessons well. And one of those was to ALWAYS know your exits. Another was to never sit with your back to the door.

A cheery middle-aged and bottle blonde waitress took their order, and Sam was relieved that Dean was with it enough to order his usual. Their food arrived quickly, and his bacon cheeseburger smelled so good Sam was beginning to regret he'd gotten a grilled chicken sandwich with a side salad. Dean's fries looked particularly yummy. Of course, he was completely ignoring them. Sam snatched one, figuring that might get his attention. No such luck.

"Hey, Earth to Dean. Food's here!" he gently chided.

That seemed to work, and for the next few minutes the two of them ate in relative silence. The waitress came back to ask how their food was, and Dean had perked up enough to give her one of his patented grins.

"Everything's great, sweetheart. Haven't had a burger this good in ages," he remarked.

Sam watched as the waitress nearly melted into a puddle on the floor when given the full force Dean Winchester charm offensive. Sam knew he should be used to it at this point, but he never ceased to be surprised at the effect his brother had on the fair sex.

Once she withdrew and they were alone, Sam took the opportunity to finally get some answers to all his questions. "So I take it that "Kate" is the reason we're here. Please tell me Dean, this wasn't just some elaborate booty call."

Dean had the good grace to look the tiniest bit guilty. "Hand to God, Sammy, I swear this isn't about getting lucky! I wasn't lying when I said I'd been having dreams about her."

"Be straight with me, Dean, what KIND of dreams have you been having about her?"

"Fine, I admit it. I've been having _those_ kind of about her. At least most of the time," he concluded. Dean looked across the fading linoleum of the table at his little brother, and sure enough Sam looked pissed. He had to admit, he had every right to be.

In an attempt to reason with his brother, he decided to try a revolutionary tactic: telling the truth. "Look Sam, I've had dreams about her on and off for something like four years now. But in the last couple of weeks, they've just been intense. I thought that maybe there was something behind it."

Sam's eyes softened a bit at his brother's admission. "Yeah, don't think I haven't noticed that you've been hogging the shower lately." That quip got a smile. "You've really had dreams about her for four years? To be honest Dean, she's not really your type."

"And what, dear brother, is my type?" he shot back, offended that Sam would say that.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Sam asked skeptically. This had to be a trap.

"Have at it," Dean replied, reclining against the cushions of the booth, spreading his arms wide, indicating that Sam should take his best shot.

So he did.

"Short, hot, and frankly kinda dumb."

"Lisa wasn't dumb," he returned defensively.

"But she was the exception, Dean. You have to admit that."

It was true, and to hear it from his brother was like a slap across the face. His taste in women had never been the most discerning. So he was shallow. So were most men. But he had changed in the last couple of years. He'd actually had a real, long term relationship. He'd been a dad for a while. Of course, it had inevitably ended badly, but that was just the way his life worked.

Dean Winchester wasn't allowed to have nice things. Not without paying an absurdly high price for those moments of true happiness.

"Funny how the shoe is on the other foot this time. I never thought I would see the day where you willingly violated Hunter Rule # 1," Sam said, almost gleeful at his brother showing a normal, human weakness. Dean had always been the first one to make the call when a hunter was needed in a town they had already been to.

"Well, smart ass, we're not technically violating the rule. We never did a job here. We just passed through," Dean countered. He loved nothing better than winning an argument with his baby brother. Seeing his beaten expression, he couldn't help grinning.

He glanced down at his left wrist and checked the time. It was nearly 1:30 now. The waitress returned and asked if either of them would like dessert.

"They're all made locally at a bakery in town. They're really good."

"From _Kate's Treats_?" Dean inquired.

"You betcha! You guys saw her booth at the farmers market, right? She makes the best apple pie in the county."

Any other time, Dean would have been down for big slice, nice and warm, topped with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream; however he didn't want to miss Kate before she packed up for the day.

"Some other time," he promised.

With that, the waitress laid the check face down, and Dean snatched it up before Sam could get to it. He dug out his wallet from his back pocket and paid the bill, being sure to leave a nice tip. The bill settled, the two hunters headed back to the car, and were soon on their way back to the farmers market.

Dean just hoped that Kate hadn't taken off early in order to avoid them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for your patience! I wasn't feeling that great during the week, which made writing a bit tricky. I hope to post a new chapter every few days if possible. Please read, and I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Although her booth at the farmers market stayed busy all afternoon, Kate found it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand, knowing that Dean would be returning sooner rather than later. She was also beginning to regret her decision to keep working rather than taking Emily's advice. Like most days, she dressed for comfort rather than to demonstrate any sort of style savvy. She barely wore makeup, considering it a colossal waste of time. She knew her jeans and green sweater were too big, making her look larger than she actually was, but they felt good, and that mattered more to her. At least until a couple of hours ago, that is.

By quarter of 2, she was sold out; every last cookie, tea bread, and pie had been purchased. By any measure, it had been a good day. While the girls did some of the dirty work, taking down the display tables and folding them up, Kate counted the day's receipts. To be sure, she had to count the money four times. The first time she'd lost track of the count and had to start all over. She made it through the second time, but when she recounted just to verify the amount, she was off a few dollars. That necessitated count # 4.

It was more than a bit embarrassing for someone who had made her living as an accountant /bookkeeper/ office manager. To make matters worse, Emily and Rayna noticed, but at least they seemed sympathetic to her plight. Thank goodness for hormonal teenagers!

Once the money was counted and the tables were taken down, she told the two girls that they were free to go, but they were in no rush to leave. It didn't take a genius to guess what was going on.

"Ladies, I know you both want to see Dean again, but I'd really appreciate some privacy," she told them gently. "We haven't seen each other in a while, and I expect we're going to have a lot to catch up on. Besides, his brother told me they were in town visiting, so it's not like you won't get another opportunity to see them." It was mostly the truth, so Kate couldn't feel too bad about fibbing that she and Dean had a lot to discuss.

If she had any sense, when he and his brother returned she'd tell them both to get lost and stay out of her life. He'd been gone too long just to show up like this. She had her own life to live. Did he expect her to just drop everything because, he, Dean Winchester, sex god extraordinaire, had returned?

He could just go fuck himself if that was the case. She didn't need him or any other man dictating to her how to live her life.

Mentally, she chided herself for her uncharitable thoughts. She really shouldn't project onto Dean her bad experience with her ex. It wasn't fair. Dean had never been anything but kind and understanding. He'd made her feel good about herself for the first time in her life. She owed him a debt for that. Without him, she'd probably still be working behind a desk five days a week, enduring her miserable job in silence because it was all that she felt she deserved.

Sure, now she worked just about every day, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd taken a real vacation but she had built a business from scratch with very little outside help. It wasn't something that everyone could lay claim to doing. Now she loved her job, and reveled in the fact that she had managed to start a successful business when the economy had been in the crapper.

The girls looked more than a bit crestfallen that they weren't going to be able to stick around, but they both said their good-byes, and Rayna reminded her that she'd see her again on Monday.

"Thanks for all your hard work, ladies! I appreciate your help so much. I know this can't be a fun way to spend your Saturday, even though I do pay you for your time."

"It's OK, Miss Hager. Working for you is fun! Besides, we get to see all the cute guys from school here each week. The chocolate chip cookies always bring 'em in," Emily admitted, and the three of them shared a quick laugh before the girls went off on their merry way.

The area had mostly cleared out, and Kate could clearly see the bakery's plain white van lurking in the parking lot. Now came the fun part, hauling everything back there. She probably should have asked the girls to stick around to help her, but she didn't want to run the risk of them being here when the Winchesters returned.

The tables had little handles on the sides, so she grabbed one in each hand, and headed toward the van. One of the benefits of hauling around large sacks of flour and sugar in the bakery was that she was pretty strong. Even so, carrying the tables was more than a bit awkward. She found herself having to stop from time to time to set the tables down, just to give her hands a rest.

Eventually Kate reached the van, and as she opened the back doors, she heard the sound of a large car approaching. Naturally, she paused what she was doing to see if it was who she thought it was. Sure enough, it was Dean's car. Funny, she thought of it was Dean's car, rather than Dean and his brother's car. She barely knew him, but he didn't strike her as the kind of guy who'd choose to drive a classic car.

They pulled up, the black car a stark contrast to hers. Kate watched as they exited their vehicle and casually approached her, like they truly were old friends. They didn't really look like brothers, having little resemblance to each other; although they both had similar builds. The certainly dressed alike; both wearing boots, worn jeans, and flannel shirts. Dean might be the smaller of the two, but he carried himself like he was the one in charge.

"This your ride?" Dean asked.

"Yes and no. Yes, this is my method of transportation this afternoon, but technically it doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the business. Mostly we use it for deliveries," she explained. She wanted to smack her forehead. Why was she telling him ANY of this? Her tendency to babble when she got nervous reared its ugly head yet again.

"You look like you could use some help," the taller Winchester observed, noticing the tables she had propped up against the van.

A part of her wanted to tell them that she didn't need their help. It was unfortunately her knee-jerk reaction any time a man offered to play the white night. But considering that without them she'd have to make at least two more trips to the van that would just be being unnecessarily stubborn.

"Sure," she answered. "But before I hand these over, could you tell me your name?"

He laughed for a second at her question, and then extended his hand toward hers, giving it a very firm shake. "Sam Winchester. I'm Dean's baby brother."

Kate nodded, and introduced herself, quipping, "Kate Hager, baker and currently very confused person."

Her remark seemed to diffuse some of the tension, and the two guys quickly and easily loaded the tables into the van without saying much. That accomplished, they followed her back to where the remaining items to be loaded were. Dean kept snatching glimpses of her, and she found herself growing uncomfortable under his inscrutable gaze. Was he disappointed in what he saw? Or maybe he just couldn't get enough of her? Now there was a foolish thought!

Finding the silence between them weird, Sam decided to engage Kate in conversation, even if Dean seemed determined to just look at her. "So, do you do this every Saturday?"

"Most definitely," she quickly replied. "At least while the town holds the market, which is just during the spring through the early fall. It's a tradition, since that's how the business started. I guess I don't really need to do it anymore, but I think I'd honestly miss it," Kate reflected.

It was also a great way for her to stay in touch with her customers since when she was at the bakery she was mostly busy in the kitchen. Over the years she had found that people really responded well to having personal contact with her. It was kind of odd really, given that she'd never been Ms. Popular in high school or during the years she'd worked at Morton Vinyl Products.

As she suspected, with the guys' help, she was able to get the rest of her gear in one trip. They insisted on carrying the heavier items, leaving her with just the plastic bags, labels, and a few boxes.

"Thanks so much, guys. I appreciate it. You just saved me about a half hour of hauling this stuff back and forth," she said as she locked up the back of the van. She turned around to face both of them, and decided she had to ask the $40,000 question. "And now that you've done your good deed for the day, how about you tell me what the hell you're doing here?"

She looked directly into their faces trying to get a clue about what their intentions were. Sam looked slightly embarrassed about the whole thing, and Dean could barely look at her. Instead, he appeared to be very interested in the cracks in the parking lot pavement.

A moment later though, his eyes met hers, and she could feel herself flushing in response. His ability to make her feel like a pre-teen with her first crush astonished her. It had only taken a look, and already she wanted him. His eyes were more haunted than she remembered.

"Look, it's kind of complicated," he explained. "Maybe we can meet you somewhere you'd be comfortable so we can talk."

"All three of us? Or is this just going to be you and me?" she asked, hoping that Sam would be there to keep her from doing anything stupid.

"All three of us," Dean promised. "You just tell us where and when, and Sammy and I will be there with bells on."

She thought about it a moment, and assessed her options. She would be well within her rights to tell them to fess up now, and that she was much too busy for this cloak and dagger shit. But it couldn't hurt to give them the benefit of the doubt.

"Why don't you guys come by my place around 6, 6:30? That will give you guys some time to settle in wherever you're staying, and I can get dinner started. It's the least I can do to thank you both," she answered.

"That's really nice of you," Sam replied. He then inquired delicately, "Does Dean know where you live?"

She blushed immediately, and pushed her glasses back against her nose. It was a cute nervous tick she had, Sam thought.

"Yeah, but let me write down the address for you, in case he forgot," she replied shyly, digging out a pen from her purse. She wrote it down carefully, making sure her handwriting would be legible, even though her hand trembled as she wrote it down. Sam took the address and tucked it into his back pocket.

"We'll see you then, Kate," Dean said seriously, his tone indicating he meant it. Why was she starting to feel like she had just agreed to attend her own execution?

The guys started to walk back to the Impala, and just as she was about to get into the van, she called to them, "Is there anything you guys don't like? I'd hate to make something you guys don't eat."

"Dean's not much for veggies, but other than that, we're not exactly picky," Sam answered for them both.

"Good to know." She had a slight smile on her lips as she said it, and there was slightly mischievous glint in her eyes. "See you soon. Drive safe."

With that last word, Sam and Dean watched her climb into the van and drive off. It seemed the three of them had a date.

* * *

"Jesus, Dean, I know you've never been much of a talker, but you're even starting to weird me out! She must have some really fond memories of you for her to have invited us to dinner after that little display," Sam ranted, frustrated Dean had been so standoffish.

"It was either that, or I was gonna kiss her. I figured that might freak her out," Dean replied.

"Dean, a kiss would have been better than staring at her and barely saying a word to her. She probably thinks we're a couple of nut jobs now."

Dean leveled his eyes at Sam. "It wouldn't have a nice peck on the cheek, Sam." That shut his Jolly-Green Giant of a brother up. "Besides, I must not have acted too weird if she invited us to dinner."

As far as Dean saw it, they had a much more pressing problem: figuring out what to tell her in order to answer her honest question about why they were there. Somehow, he didn't think confessing to years of erotic dreams would impress her that much. But something told him that lying to her wasn't really an option either. He didn't want to lie to her. It's just telling the truth about the ensuing four years would make them sound like mental ward escapees.

It wasn't like his history before that made much sense either. Between his mom being pinned to ceiling and being burned alive, constantly moving around as a kid, the demon hunting family business, and subsequent trips to Hell, Heaven, and Purgatory his life didn't even make sense to him at this point. But he had seen the way she had looked at him a few minutes ago. It had only been there for a moment, but he'd seen it all the same. She still wanted him.

And he wanted her too.

Maybe it was just a consequence of all the dreams he'd been having lately. But he'd seen other women in the past two weeks, and he hadn't had the kind of physical reaction he'd had to her. It had been all he could do to restrain himself from pulling her into him and shoving his tongue down her throat. Even in her comfy weekend clothes that disguised her figure, he'd reacted to her.

He needed to get laid really bad, and preferably with her. Maybe he just had to get her out of his system. Unfortunately, that was not going to happen with Sam around. But it wasn't like he had much choice in the matter. He could tell from the tone of her voice that meeting him without Sam would have been a deal breaker. He smiled to himself; she wasn't stupid, that's for sure.

"Come on, Sam. Let's go find somewhere to crash. We should probably clean up before dinner."

Sam just looked at his brother. He couldn't remember the last time Dean had cleaned himself up for a girl.

* * *

Kate pulled into the back of her bakery and started to unload everything. As she lugged one of the display tables, she was greeted by one of her assistants, Jane Evans. Upon seeing her arrive, she set down the pastry bag she was currently wielding to pipe choux pastry for éclairs to help her.

"Good day at the market?" she asked, even though she was pretty it must have been pretty good since there wasn't any product in the van.

"Yeah, it was fine," her boss replied, sounding a bit distracted. In Jane's experience, Kate rarely got distracted. Sometimes, on rare occasions, when she was trying out a new recipe she'd get a singular focus and ignore the world around her, but that wasn't the same thing. Something was up.

"Jane, I hate to do this to you, but do you think you can handle the store the rest of the day, and close up? I kinda have an appointment later."

"Sure thing, boss lady. You deserve a little time off. Everyone knows you work your ass off for this place. Take the afternoon off and catch up on your sleep," Jane said supportively. Kate didn't look sick, but you couldn't always tell about that sort of thing.

"Thanks," she answered, shaking her head as she said it. "I've been saying that to a lot of people today," she mused aloud. In her head, Kate was mentally going through everything she needed to do before Dean and Sam would arrive. She was going to have to stop at the store and pick up a few things for dinner, and she had better get a six pack because they didn't seem like wine guys.

However, first and foremost, she had to come up with a menu! Nothing too fancy, but she couldn't help wanting to impress Dean a bit. Not knowing either of them well, she was going to assume their tastes didn't run to the exotic, and that her best bet would be something they were familiar with. Steakhouse fare would be easy to put together, and wouldn't require her to buy much. And thankfully, she had an entire bakery at her disposal for dessert.

"Do we have any apple pies left?" she asked Jane, figuring she would know. Apple pie was probably their best-selling dessert, and one of her personal favorites.

As it turned out, Jane wasn't sure. "I know we don't have any left back here, but there might be one or two in the case in front. You want me to check?"

"Yes, please. And snag me one, if it's available."

Kate watched as Jane quickly moved through the swinging doors that divided the front of the store from the kitchen, her white chef's coat and checked pants setting her apart from the regular street attire worn by the rest of the staff. While she waited, Kate checked the bread racks, and seeing a loaf of their signature sourdough baguette, she grabbed it, figuring it would be a perfect accompaniment to the steaks. Jane emerged a few minutes later, carrying a white cardboard box, neatly tied up, indicating her mission had been successful.

Jane handed the box over to her boss with aplomb. "Making an emergency delivery?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity. It had certainly happened before on a Saturday afternoon. One of their restaurant clients would get nervous they didn't order enough, and Kate was always willing to run out with whatever they were looking for as long as it was available.

Not wanting to lie to her assistant, Kate explained, "It's for me actually. I'm sort of having an impromptu dinner party." It felt good to confide in someone. And Jane just wasn't anyone. In the past couple of years, she had become her closest confidant. Jane had been there when Kate's relationship with Steve Morton had imploded and she had desperately needed a shoulder to cry on.

"Sounds fun. What brought this on? You run into an old boyfriend or something?" Jane joked, knowing that Kate didn't really have any old boyfriends to speak of. But as she leaned against the large work table in the center of the kitchen, she saw Kate flush slightly, which had to mean this "dinner party" wasn't just a casual dinner.

"You could say that," Kate answered enigmatically, doing her best to be coy, all the while hoping Jane would figure it out. It took a moment, but then Jane's face lit up, her brown eyes sparking with amber lights.

"Oh my God, you saw HIM. That guy you told me about! What the fuck is his name, again? I should totally remember this, but my brain has ceased functioning," she exaggerated. One of the things Kate loved about Jane was her inability to censor herself. She cursed like a sailor and refused to apologize for it. Kate, on the other hand, still felt guilty when she let the occasional "shit" pass her lips.

Kate supplied the name that her assistant was unable to come up with. "Dean. Dean Winchester, actually."

Jane gave her boss a hard look. "Well that's some new information. Or have you been holding out on me?" she pressed.

Kate just rolled her eyes slightly. "Hey, I just found out today myself! And it turns out he has a brother. They're supposedly here visiting, although I have no idea who at this point."

"Girl, you know they're here to see you! It's not like there's any other reason to come to this hick town. If they had family in the area, they would have come back sooner," she reasoned. Jane could barely contain her glee. The fabled Dean had returned! The guy whose one night stand with Kate Hager had become something of a legend in Clearwater. The guy who Kate still talked about with fondness, even though they'd only spent a few hours together.

She was totally calling Rayna later because she was dying to know what the guy looked like. Kate had been pretty candid about what happened that night, but she'd been pretty closed-mouthed about Dean. She'd said he was really good looking, but that was about it. Rayna was on the schedule for the farmers market today, and she was would be more than willing to dish out the hot gossip.

"Please tell me you're looking for a fourth person, because I am so down to be your wingman."

It really wasn't a bad idea, but Kate figured the brothers would not appreciate Jane's presence. "I don't think this is a wingman-needing situation. We're just having dinner, and then they're going to leave."

Jane couldn't help teasing her boss a bit. "Really? Maybe you're just trying to get lucky with BOTH of them this time around."

"You are a sick woman! They're brothers for Christ's sakes," Kate replied in mock offense. "Really hot brothers," she concluded, even though the only Winchester that held any interest for her was Dean. She couldn't deny that Sam was certainly very attractive on his own merits. He just didn't make her heart do flip flops like Dean did.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't!" Jane called to Kate as she began to make her may toward the back entrance of the bakery.

"Still not having a threesome with them, Jane," Kate deadpanned, knowing that would get a reaction from her faithful assistant.

She broke into a wide grin, and quickly shot Kate "who me?" look. "Just be sure to give me the details on Monday woman. You owe me that!"

"I promise, Girl Scout honor," Kate replied, raising three fingers on her right hand while she cradled the pie and bread in the crook of her left.

"Knock 'em dead!" Jane retorted, sticking her head out the back door as Kate loaded everything into her little red Honda.

It was a compelling idea: getting all dolled up, and somehow through the power of her personality bringing Dean to his knees; making him regret the fact he'd stayed away so long. But that just wasn't her.

She just wanted to know why he was back, and if he intended to disappear out of her life yet again. And if that was the case, she had some decisions to make. At the moment, she wasn't sure if she was going to be able to make any smart safe ones.


	3. Chapter 3

**Time for the next installment! I apologize in advance if this chapter makes people hungry. I hope you like it!**

Thinking she heard something at the door, Kate dashed down the stairs, missing the final step before the landing, nearly falling ass over tea-kettle. But after a couple of awkward steps, she righted herself, and smoothed her hair, hoping she hadn't messed it up too much after taking the time to actually do something to it. Good thing she had chosen a pair of plain black flats with a rubber sole, otherwise she might have hurt herself.

It was nearly six, so Sam and Dean could arrive at nearly any moment. She took a deep breath and unlocked the front door but it turned out she'd nearly broken her neck for nothing. There was no sign of them just yet. She breathed a sigh of relief that she had a least a couple of minutes before they arrived. Kate rarely had visitors, so she wasn't sure what they would expect from her in the way of entertainment while she finished dinner. Maybe she should put some music on so the house wouldn't be so quiet?

In the absence of any other bright ideas, she decided to do just that. Thankfully, she'd never erased the playlist simply entitled "Dean" from her iPod. One day months after he had left, in one of her more masochistic moods, she put together a list of songs she thought he would like based on the glimpse she'd gotten of his old tapes in the Impala. Of course, she now knew that those tapes could very well belong to Sam rather than Dean. But Sam did not strike her as a classic guitar rock kind of guy. Dean, on the other hand, seemed just the type of guy to revel in music from the seventies that he was technically too young to remember.

Aside from the usual suspects, she'd thrown in a few hair metal songs from the 80s that she was sure Dean would recall with a mixture of equal parts nostalgia and chagrin. She couldn't be sure of Dean's age (especially given the fact he basically looked the same as he had years ago), but if she had to guess, they had to be right about the same age. He might not want be willing to admit it, but she was willing to bet money that he had owned a copy of Def Leppard's "Hysteria" on cassette when he was in elementary school. He might be more willing to admit that one of the more formative moments of his adolescence had probably involved Tawny Kitaen writhing on a Jaguar to the strains of Whitesnake.

Feeling just a bit giddy, she cued up "Here I Go Again", plugged her iPod into their speakers, and let the music rip. Kate danced her way into the kitchen, doing a final lap just to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. The creamed spinach au gratin was in the oven keeping warm along with the mashed potatoes. The bread just needed to be sliced, and since she had the time she popped the pie into the oven so it would be nice and warm for dessert. She opened the freezer just to reassure herself that she had not forgotten the vanilla ice cream. A six pack of Sam Adams was chilling in the fridge.

Laid out on the counter were the makings of their main course. Out of habit, all of the ingredients were separated, laid out in the order that she would need them. Yeah, it made her look like a complete fuss budget, but it was the best way to make sure that she didn't accidentally forget anything. She was waiting for the guys to arrive before she cooked anything. Kate crossed her fingers, hoping that neither of them would have any objections to steak au poivre.

Taking the afternoon off had proven to be a godsend. By not being tied up at the bakery all afternoon, she'd been able to run the few errands she needed to, tidy up, and get dinner well in hand with enough time to fix herself up a bit. Nothing fancy, but she wanted to put in an effort as much for herself as Dean. She'd switched into a pair of dark jeans that actually fit her correctly and managed to draw attention to her long lean legs. Her red short-sleeved wrap-style top had a deep v-neck, too deep for her to feel comfortable wearing it without a white camisole underneath it. Technically she didn't need it, but she didn't want to look easy or desperate.

It looked nice on her, helping to create a waist where she didn't have much of one, and she adored the color. Red had always been one of her favorites, but she didn't get to wear it much anymore since her work attire was essentially a uniform. Then to top it all off she was wearing a small pair of "diamond" hoops in her ears, and she had put on make-up as well. Nothing dramatic, but she had to admit the touch of color in her cheeks and lips brightened up her eyes like the lady at the cosmetics counter had said it would.

Kate walked over to her small dining table, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She hadn't. The plates and silverware were laid, water glasses were in place, and napkins were neatly tucked next to the plates.

The only thing left to do was wait.

* * *

"Sam, you ready yet?" Dean called while perched on the end of his bed, angrily glancing at his watch for the fifth time in the past three minutes. It was after six, and his brother was still screwing around in the bathroom. They were already officially late. He found this irrationally irritating.

"I'm comin', I'm comin', Dean! Just keep your hair on. According to the GPS, we're only 15 minutes away," Sam answered, hoping that would mollify his grumpy bear brother just on the other side of the wall. Sam found it more than a little bit hysterical that Dean was after HIM to hurry up. Dean was never on time for anything. At the last high school he'd gone to, he had set the record for most consecutive days being tardy.

This whole situation brought Sam right back to when Dean had been in high school, and he'd been forced to play chaperone with his "dates" because Dad had been out hunting and Dean was under strict orders not to leave Sam alone. Not that Dean had ever cared if his little brother knew what he was up to behind closed doors. It had generally been the girls who'd found the situation more than a little bit bizarre. And now, twenty years later Sam was once again getting to play the third wheel in this little drama. At least this time, he'd get a home cooked meal as a part of the deal.

Sam emerged from the bathroom to find Dean on his feet, car keys in hand. While he was essentially wearing the same outfit as earlier in the day (he was wearing a fresh shirt though), Dean had changed completely although his attire was essentially the same. Instead of wearing his faded green army-style jacket, Dean was wearing their dad's leather one. His face was freshly shaved, and his hair was still damp from his earlier shower.

Someone was clearly trying to make a good impression.

It wasn't like either of them had an expansive wardrobe. It was pretty much either jeans or the FBI drag, and that wasn't appropriate either. It's not like there were too many opportunities for business casual in their line of work.

But Sam knew his brother, and he could tell that he'd taken care to make sure what he was wearing was neat, clean, and free from any of the nastier stains that tended to be endemic as a result of their profession. Both of them were experts at getting bloodstains out, but there were some things that just didn't wash out, no matter how many times they tried.

"You ready?" Dean asked, although it sounded more like a demand than a question.

"Let's go, I got directions all cued up on my phone," he offered, trying to be helpful.

"Not gonna need 'em, Sam," Dean swiftly replied, and with that they were out the door, and on their way.

Sure enough, Dean did seem to know the way but Sam kept an eye on his phone just in case his confidence turned out to be bluster.

"I guess you do remember the way after all," he said. "Even after four years."

"Believe me, Sam, it helps that I've driven to her house more than a few times in my dreams."

At that statement, Sam decided the best course of action was to shut up and let his brother drive. The short ride on the county road took them past a few small businesses, including what looked like a bar. That had to be where they met all those years ago. It looked like Dean's kind of place, but he had to wonder what circumstances would have gotten Kate to go to a place like that. He didn't know her life, but she was nice, quiet, and maybe a bit shy. Not the kind of girl that frequents dive bars or picks guys up in one. If there was one thing Sam was looking forward to besides the food was finding out how the two of them had hooked up.

Not far from the bar, Dean turned off the main road and into a more residential area, and within a few turns Dean brought the car to a halt in front of a small post-World War II Cape Cod style house. It was gray with a burgundy door, and around the lamp post next to the driveway a small patch of tulips was thriving. She didn't have a garage, so her small red car was on view, taking up much of the right side of the driveway.

As the two brothers approached the door, the faint sounds of bluesy rock were audible through the door. To make sure they were heard, Dean pounded heavily on the door; and being impatient twisted the door knob, making the discovery the door was left unlocked. For a moment, Sam thought Dean was going to bust in without being invited, but Kate's voice suddenly cut through the music, warm and welcoming.

"Coming, guys! Just give me a sec!" she called, and as promised the door soon opened, revealing their hostess. Like Dean, she had cleaned herself up. Sam heard, rather than saw his brother's reaction as she emerged from behind the door. A heavy breath passed between his lips, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Come in, come in," she invited, stepping aside so the brothers could gain entry. "Is the music OK, or should I change it? I can turn it off too if it's bothering you. I just wanted some noise while I was finishing things up. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes. I was waiting for you guys before I finished. You guys like steak, right?" The words came out in a rush, betraying her nerves. To their credit, the guys just seemed to absorb the stream of words like a sponge.

"I'm sorry we're late," Dean offered, and then added, "Steak sounds great."

In return, Kate smiled, the corners of her small mouth turning up slightly. Dean wondered if she knew how pretty she was when she smiled like that. She might not be drop dead gorgeous, but she definitely had that girl-next-door thing going on. And with that fitted red top on, he was going to have to occasionally remind himself not to stare too much.

"You guys aren't late," she stated. "You're right on time! It's not even 6:30 yet." She then proceeded to take their coats and hang them up in the small closet just inside the entry. Sam immediately began taking a visual inventory of the living room, looking for anything that might explain Dean's dreams. It all looked perfectly ordinary to him. There were a couple of bookcases though, and he'd have to take a closer look at those just to make sure. But there certainly weren't any objects sitting in plain sight that screamed "evil".

Not missing a beat, Kate escorted them through the living room and down a short hall that led right into the kitchen, which was clearly the showcase of the first floor. It was wide open with a small dining area to the right. Off to the left there was an island that served as a prep area not too far from the stove. A bunch of stuff was laid out on the counter in a couple of rows.

"Just make yourselves at home, and I'll have dinner ready in fifteen minutes," Kate said as she flipped a dial on the stove, firing up a burner under a large sauté pan. "Good gracious, where are my manners? Can I get you guys something to drink while you wait? I've got beer in the fridge."

Dean had just sat down at one of the high stools next to the island, but he got up right away. "I'll get it, Kate. No need to wait on us," he said as he made his way over to the fridge. Before Kate could object, Dean had fished a couple of long-necks out of there and popped the tops off, handing one to Sam. Dean caught her small frown, but a moment later she was tossing some oil and butter in the pan in front of her, back on the task at hand.

The beer was ice cold, and Dean folded himself back into the stool so he could watch her while she worked. Three steaks hit the pan with a sizzle, although they appeared to be coated in something a bit more substantial than the usual salt and pepper.

"It's just peppercorns," she replied, reading his mind. "It won't be too hot, I promise. It works with the sauce."

He'd take her word for it. Dean didn't pretend to know much about gourmet cuisine.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Sam asked, eager to do something besides just watching the two them try to figure each other out.

"Oh, sure," Kate answered, gesturing over her shoulder to point out what had to be a magnet holding several sharp knives to the wall. That was certainly handy. "Just grab the serrated one, and slice up the bread." As she said it, she clicked the tips of the tongs she was holding a few times, and then flipped the steaks over on to the other side to finish cooking.

Once that was done, she deposited the steaks onto a platter, and in a smooth motion she dumped the fat in the pan out into the sink behind her, then returned the pan back to the stove adding a fresh pat of butter. After that, thinly sliced mushrooms hit the pan, and after a couple of minutes she added what looked like minced onions and bit of garlic. Once it started smelling fantastic, she grabbed the bottle of brandy lying on the counter and poured in a bit, watching it start to boil and reduce . Then she did something that both guys had only ever seen in movies or on TV, Kate took the pan off the burner, and dipped it toward the gas flame, which ignited the alcohol.

"Whoa!" Dean exclaimed, jerking back slightly. Kate on the other hand didn't even flinch. She treated it just like he did the average salt and burn, even though the flames had come way too close to her hair for his liking.

"No worries, Dean. I keep a fire extinguisher in the cabinet under the range just in case!"

From a small glass pitcher, she poured in some cream, and once it came to a boil she turned the heat down a bit, and then went about getting the rest of the meal on the table. She took the small pile of sliced bread that Sam had made, and placed it into a basket with a green napkin lining it. It was quickly joined by a couple of items she pulled from the oven. Dean recognized one as mashed potatoes, but the other was a mystery. It smelled good though!

Kate made her way back to the stove, and stirred the sauce, checking to see if the cream had reduced down enough to coat the back of a spoon. Seeing it was ready, she did a quick taste check and added a touch more salt, and then returned the steaks to the pan so they could bathe in the sauce for a minute before serving. As a final touch, she sprinkled a bit of minced parsley on top just for color.

She placed the platter on the table, did a final survey, and then bid them to sit down. "You guys can get started. Just leave me the smallest steak, you can fight over the other two. I'm just going to get myself a glass of wine." Kate hadn't planned on drinking, but seeing the freshly showered Dean, she found she needed something to steady herself. There was bottle of red open on the far counter, and she did a quick sniff to make sure it was still good before pouring a good size glass.

Kate was just about to return to the table when she heard a very familiar moan come from the table.

"Oh my God, Kate, this is so GOOD!"

She turned to see Dean with a look of absolute bliss on his face as he took a bite. Yep, she was definitely going to need some booze. She took a good swig of the pinot noir, and gathered up her courage to sit down at the head of the table.

"Thanks," she replied as she sat down, relieved. "I'm glad you like it. I was keeping my fingers crossed." The wine was starting to do its work, and feeling slightly relaxed, she served herself. Good thing she made extra. The two of them were eating like they hadn't seen food in ages.

Sam paused for a moment, realizing he and Dean probably looked ridiculous. "No, thank you! We seriously haven't had anything this good in . . "  
"We can't remember how long," Dean finished for him.

"It's actually really flattering, guys. I don't really get to cook for anyone but myself very often, so it's good to know I haven't forgotten how. Just make sure you save room for dessert." Gaaah, now she sounded like their mother! Just once she'd like to not default into mom mode in a social situation.

"What's for dessert?" they asked together. The Winchesters might not look alike, but in that moment, it was clear they absolutely were brothers. They had the same expectant expression, and it made them look years younger.

"Apple pie with vanilla ice cream," she replied, news which was greeted with another groan from Dean. "I take it that's a good thing?"

"You don't even know. Apple pie is Dean's kryptonite," supplied Sam, which earned him a dirty look from his brother.

Dean's reaction made her laugh a little. So he was helpless when confronted with apple pie? The idea of a helpless Dean was somehow incredibly amusing to her, and she tucked into her meal, finally feeling able to relax.

It was time to make with the small talk, something with which she was really out of practice. Her instinct was to be really blunt and just demand to know why they were there, but didn't want to be rude.

"I take it you guys didn't have any trouble getting here from wherever you're staying?" she asked, subtly fishing for details about their accommodations.

"No problems at all. Dean pretty much remembered the way."

Kate took that in and carefully considered what his brother had just said. Either Dean had a REALLY good memory or they were staying close by. The only place even remotely close to her was the crappy motel. Her first instinct was to wonder why they couldn't they afford something better. No one would ever stay there by choice, would they? She really shouldn't be that surprised; after all, she had no idea how Dean or Sam made a living.

"I know you don't know me from Adam, Sam, but if you guys would like to stay here with me, I'd be happy to put you up. I've got a spare bedroom and a pull out couch in the living room. You're only visiting a couple of days, right?" she found herself offering. She hated the idea of them staying in that place.

Dean would have loved to say yes, in fact, his lower brain was screaming at him to say yes. Nevertheless, he shook his head in the negative. "We wouldn't want to intrude more than we already have, Kate. You've been too nice to us already. This dinner was going way above the call of duty. All we did was help you with some tables."

Having finished eating, Kate neatly placed her knife and fork on her plate, and then moved her hands into her lap. "It was my pleasure. Tomorrow is sort of my day off, anyway. I'm allowed to have a little fun tonight."

"Your place is closed on a Sunday?" Sam asked, more than a bit confused. He would have thought she'd want to be open on the weekend.

Kate instantly corrected his misunderstanding. "We're open tomorrow, I just don't come in to the bakery on Sundays. I work from home. I do the books, payroll, place orders, that sort of thing," making it sound like it wasn't a big deal.

"Shouldn't you have an accountant for some of that stuff?" asked Dean. He was no financial expert, but that didn't seem like a good idea to him. Strangely, Kate's response was a hearty guffaw.

"Ordinarily, I would absolutely agree with you, Dean. But the bakery is peanuts compared with my prior life." She quickly explained that up until she'd met Dean she had been the bookkeeper at Morton Vinyl. "It's really all Dean's fault I opened the bakery. He helped me realize I had been missing out on a lot in my life. So I quit my job, took out a loan, and couple months later I was in business for myself. Kinda nuts, when you think about it."

"Especially when the world was pretty much coming to an end all around you," Sam slyly remarked, causing Dean to almost do a spit take with his beer.

Kate noticed it, but shook it off as some sort of joke she wasn't a party to. When she thought about it though, the news around that time had been pretty bonkers. All sorts of weird stuff had been going on all over the country, but life in Clearwater had gone on largely the same. And then one May, all the freaky stuff had stopped. At least up until last year. That had been a whole other batch of strange stuff.

She began clearing the table, and was pleasantly surprised when both of them got up to help her. So not only were they easy on the eyes, they both had good manners. If Jane had been here, she would have told Kate she'd hit the jackpot. But Kate couldn't help feeling like something was just off. As they had eaten, the conversation had been mostly about her, rather than them. Which had been the whole reason why she'd invited them in the first place.

The table cleared, she retrieved the apple pie from the warming oven and began cutting slices for all of them. "You both want ice cream?" Dean gave an emphatic "yes" while Sam politely declined.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Sam? What kind of person doesn't want ice cream with their pie?"

"The kind that doesn't like ice cream with their pie, Dean." The two bickered as she set their desserts in front of them.

The pie was just warm enough to melt the ice cream, but not completely. Dean could see the flecks of vanilla bean in the ice cream, and the damn dessert just smelled like he'd always imagined home was supposed to. It was killing him to wait, but he restrained himself from digging in until she returned to the table with a slice for herself. He noted that she took her slice with a scoop of ice cream.

Once she was seated, he took a big bite, the flaky crust shattering under the pressure of his fork. The apples were kissed with just the right amount of cinnamon and sugar so you could still taste them under the other flavors. It was in a word: devine.

"Fuck me, Kate. This pie is pretty much the best thing ever," he raved, noticing that even Sam seemed to be enjoying it.

"Seriously, this is awesome. No wonder you went into business," his brother continued, offering his own praise.

She smiled and looked back and forth at the brothers and admitted, "Well, I did have a bit of an ulterior motive for inviting you guys here. I figured if I fed you, you guys might be honest with me about why Dean suddenly felt the urge to see me again. It's been a long time for you to just show up out of the blue. Not that I'm complaining," she clarified.

Sam wasn't saying anything, but Dean could easily read his brother's expression. It was saying "What the fuck are you going to tell her now, genius?" Kate just sat there, her expression fixed on Dean, waiting patiently for his response. There was no way that Sam was going to try to step in and bail him out of this one.

Knowing he'd been abandoned by his little brother, Dean sat up straight in his chair, exhaling heavily. "Look, I know this is gonna sound weird, but I just felt like I had to see you. I needed to make sure you were OK."

Kate looked at Dean quizzically, her face full of questions, but she didn't ask one right away. "That's rather sweet of you, Dean. But as you can see, I'm doing fine. I have a pretty normal, if slightly boring life. Are you sure there isn't more to this?"

"I've been having dreams about you, Kate," he answered softly, his eyes looking directly into hers. Dean watched as her eyes immediately widened in shock. She grew serious, and asked him in return, "Have these dreams been happening recently?"

"Yes."

"And you've had them on and off the past four years, right? But only recently they've become more frequent and intense," she continued, mirroring what he had told Sam earlier.

"Yes," was all he said, but her response could only mean one thing.

Her hands were shaking as she brought a forkful of pie up to her lips. "Dean, I've been having them too. I've been having them all along."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for all the positive reviews! They really keep me motivated when I get frustrated with myself. But I have to admit, I'm really enjoying writing this. And I'm really looking forward to the next part! Enjoy everyone!**

Kate's admission had the same effect as if all the oxygen were sucked out of the room all at once. For a moment there was total silence around the table. It was broken when Sam muttered an uncharacteristic "shit", and excused himself from the room.

Never let it be said that he didn't know when to make an exit.

This was not a conversation he wanted or really needed to be a part of. He had plenty of questions, but he would have to wait until another time to ask them. At any rate, it would give him the perfect excuse to snoop around the living room.

Sam was sure of one thing; something in Clearwater, Iowa was very wrong. He just wasn't entirely convinced that Kate didn't have a hand in it. She certainly seemed like a good person, but he didn't know her, and he was wary of trusting her too quickly. But if she was the cause, his guess was that it was probably unwitting, an accident. Perhaps after Dean left she'd cast some sort of spell, hoping it would get him to return. She wouldn't have been the first person to meddle in the supernatural without realizing there could be disastrous consequences.

Hopefully he'd be able to find some sort of answer among her bookshelves; and if that failed to pan out, he and Dean were going to have to hit the books as soon as possible. But for now he would give them their space. As long as that meant he stayed within earshot. He'd better stay close just in case Dean needed backup.

He made his way into the living room and wandered over toward one of her bookshelves. For a person with a small house who appeared to live alone, she had an awful lot of books. There were two wood bookcases, each six feet high, and both were pretty well jammed with books. A smaller third one held her DVD collection. Unsurprisingly, a couple of rows were dedicated to cookbooks, some of them thick volumes dedicated exclusively to baking. Just to be sure they were what they appeared to be, he pulled a couple from the shelves and paged through them. After several minutes of this, it was clear there was nothing sinister in them, unless one counted the fact that after looking at them one was pretty much guaranteed to crave copious amounts of sugar!

Moving on to the other shelves, Sam quickly realized that the books had been meticulously organized, first by subject matter, and then next by author's last name. From her collection, Kate had pretty diverse tastes in reading material. There were books on Italian Renaissance art and British history, as well as all kinds of fiction. She had all of the Harry Potter books in hardcover and paperback along with a nice representation of classics like _Gone with the Wind_ and _Pride & Prejudice_. There was even a leather volume of unabridged Shakespeare with a hand-written inscription from her Mom.

It wasn't all high-minded literature either. She had some legal thrillers, and a couple of _Star Trek_ novels. Not much in the way of chick lit or romance novels though, which meant she either didn't read them at all, or she kept them out of sight. A person with this many books probably kept her favorites in her room, he reasoned. But he wasn't about to go poking around in there without an invitation. Besides, Dean had a much better shot of getting in there than he did.

He continued to pull books off the shelves at random, but a quick flip through them yielded no results. Feeling frustrated, he began to look around the room, but Kate didn't really have much in the way of knickknacks. Mostly they looked like slightly nicer stuff than you'd see in a typical dorm room; there wasn't a suspicious-looking antique among them. The end tables even looked to be of the put-it-together-yourself variety.

She had a flat screen TV, but it wasn't ostentatiously large, and it wasn't brand new. By all appearances she lived a very modest, but comfortable life. Idly, Sam wondered if Dean had walked away from something similar when he'd been with Lisa. Some people might have found it aggressively boring, but Sam knew that he and Dean could both use a very large dose of boredom. After saving the world more times than he cared to count, they could both use an extended break.

And since he really didn't have anything better to do, he grabbed her copy of _Persuasion_, plopped himself onto her couch, and decided to give it go. There had to be a reason why so many women read Jane Austen's books.

* * *

The revelation that Kate was plagued with the same dreams as him, hit Dean square in the chest like a blow from a particularly strong demon. It was not what he had been expecting to hear. His worst case scenario was that she would laugh him and Sam out of the house, and threaten to call the cops if they ever showed up again. He'd been wholly unprepared for her response. Once again it seemed that Fate just couldn't leave him alone. And this time it had decided to drag a totally innocent bystander in to the mess that passed for his life.

"Dean, what's happening to us?" Kate asked, her voice now slightly tinged with fear. Dean couldn't blame her for being scared. He'd experienced a lot of freaky shit in his life time, but this was new.

"I don't know, Kate. That's why Sam and I came. There's gotta be a reason for it. We'll figure it out, and then you and I can go back to living our lives. Maybe we'll even be able to go back to getting a decent night's sleep again," he joked, trying to keep his tone light for Kate's sake. He did not want her to get more freaked out that she already undoubtedly was.

Instead of making her feel better, Dean's words melted away her fear and left her seething. Of course he wanted the dreams to stop. It was probably hell for him to keep reliving that night over and over. He might have said "no regrets" when they had parted but clearly there was buyer's remorse now.

"Are they really that awful?" she found herself asking. God, deep down she must be a masochist to even ask!

Dean quickly comprehended how upset Kate was. Her eyes were starting to mist, and she was having a hard time looking at him. She'd completely taken what he'd said the wrong way. He tilted her chin up so she was looking at him, purposefully touching her for the first time. "No, no, Kate, please don't."

He left the word "cry" unsaid. "They're not something bad I'm trying to get rid of. It's just in my experience this kind of crap is always bad news." It wasn't a very convincing explanation, but it was all he could come up with at the moment.

"You have a lot of experience with having dreams about your one night stands?" she asked, allowing some of the bitterness she felt to impact her speech.

"No, I don't. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before," he replied defensively, trying to get her back on his side. He wanted; no, needed her to believe him. But Kate looked thoroughly unconvinced that he was being honest with her. It would appear she still had a fairly negative view of herself. He would have thought that would have diminished over the years.

"I guess that makes me special then," she snorted derisively. She added a sarcastic "hooray" to underline her point. Did he really think this would work on her? Sure, he was sitting there looking as delicious as ever, saying all the right things, but could she really believe that she was the one woman who haunted his dreams? It just seemed so unlikely.

"Damn it, Kate. Can't you tell I'm not fucking around here?" he said, starting to become desperate that she understand. "I'm not lying to you, and let me tell you I could, if I wanted to. It's something I'm really fucking good at."

"Oh, is that the other thing?" she snapped back, relishing the opportunity to land a stinging blow. It was cruel and unfair of her, and she knew it. But it felt good.

Dean took the hit, doing his best to not openly react to it. Did she really just see him as a piece of ass? She certainly wouldn't have been the first woman to see him that way. It couldn't have been his brain that had initially attracted her. Still, it hurt a bit to be reminded that he was the "dumb" Winchester.

"Look, I'm sorry if I upset you. Sam and I will go, and we can come back tomorrow when you've had some time to think about this," Dean offered, deciding it was time to bid a hasty retreat.

"Don't you dare patronize me like that, you bastard! I don't need any "time". I've been living with YOU in my head for years!" she raged, letting her temper get the best of her, something she rarely let happen. Kate had always prized her self-control, and right now it had deserted her. She couldn't decide what she wanted to do more; hit him or kiss him. Maybe both.

She stood up from the table and walked away from Dean, needing to put some distance between the two of them. He really didn't deserve her anger, but Kate found she just couldn't conceal her emotions in front of him. She forced herself to turn back toward him, and she leaned up against the counter for support, needing to feel something solid beneath her because her insides were quaking. "I know this is going to sound pathetic to you, but maybe I don't want the dreams to stop. I almost feel like if they went away, I'd somehow lose you. And yes, I know that sounds utterly ridiculous!"

Kate was having a hard time putting her feelings into words. The dreams were a part of who she was. It would be like losing a part of herself. She was willing to admit the fact they had become so frequent was odd, but she had always chalked up their reoccurrence to the fact that Dean had a profound effect on her. Besides, who wouldn't want to relive the best night of their life over and over? She could not imagine there being anything sinister about them. Besides, the brain was a weird, almost unknowable thing.

"I don't think you're pathetic or ridiculous," Dean replied, and then rising from his seat he moved toward her. "There've been times when they've been the best damn thing in my day. But even I know it's not normal to dream about the same person night after night for days on end."

As he approached her, Kate raised her right hand to hold him off, but Dean kept moving into her personal space, and now her hand rested right over the tattoo she knew lurked just below the surface. She could feel the heat of him through the layers of his clothes, and for a moment she flashed back four years earlier, except then, his chest had been bare.

"You'd better not be saying that just to get on my good side, Dean," she warned him, but with very little space between them she was fast becoming intoxicated by his presence. The scent of leather and cool cotton clung to his skin, and more than anything she wanted to lean into his body and take shelter in it.

Just as she was about to pull away, his voice coming soft and wet in her ear sucked her back in.

"It's OK, Kate. I want you too," he urged, wanting her to make the first move. Dean felt her shudder against him, and in that moment he knew he had her.

Her mouth connected with his, her lips soft and seeking, and soon their bodies were intertwined; clinging to each other, feeling every moment of the years they'd been separated. When their tongues met an electric jolt raced through them both, erasing any space between them. Kate's mind might be telling her how very wrong it was to be making out with Dean in the middle of her kitchen, but her body was calling the shots, and it didn't give a damn. It only cared that being in his arms again felt right and good.

He kissed her back, gentle but deep, taking control. His hands curved around her hips, and without any prompting she ground against him, something his cock was very much in favor of. She was a ball of fire in his arms, and she slipped a hand under his shirt to caress his abs for a moment before settling against his lower back. In response, he inched his hand up to undo the little red bow at her waist. He pulled one end, and feeling it open, Dean got his other hand involved to pull the top apart. A moment later, he was shoving it off her shoulders, and throwing it onto the counter, leaving her in just a silky white camisole.

Kate was dimly aware that Dean had somehow managed to start undressing her. However she was completely lost in the delectable feeling of his hard body against hers, that she let him do whatever the hell he wanted. She probably wouldn't object if he leaned her over the counter, and fucked her right there. Lord knows it had been a while, and right now she was more than ready for him.

What she really need was to feel him, and the soft skin of his back just wasn't getting it done. Boldly, she slid her hand down and around, past the waistband of his jeans, and under his undies. Kate found him hot and hard, straining into her palm, and hearing him moan she began to stroke him. It was a tight squeeze, but somehow she was making it work.

The sensation of her slightly calloused hand against his cock was making him weak in the knees. Kate was hitting all his spots, swirling a finger just below the crown, and lightly brushing the veins that ran up and down it. He couldn't let her keep this up for long, or else he'd be coming in his pants, which would just be a damn mess. The only place he wanted to come was inside her.

Dean reached for counter, and blindly groped to make enough room so he could take her right there. But in his haste, he sent a sauté pan flying, and it clattered to the ground very loudly. The noise made him cringe, but Kate breathlessly urged him, "'It's OK, I'll get it later."

Relieved his lack of grace hadn't spoiled the moment, he quickly undid his belt, and popped the button on his jeans, and when he did so she gave him a big grin. She might look like a sweet thing, but she had a dirty mind, and he was going to show her how much he appreciated it.

At least until they both heard the sound of heavy work boots clomping down the hall.

"Fuck me," Dean moaned in pure sexual frustration, only to be followed by Kate's playful rejoinder of "Not right now, Dean," as she attempted to put herself back together.

"You guys OK in there?" Sam asked as he emerged from down the hall. "I heard something fall, and I was worried something was wrong ." His voice trailed off as he got a good look at the two of them practically sprawled on top of each other on the counter where not an hour ago she had been making dinner. Kate's lipstick was smeared, and her red top had gone missing. And oh look, his brother's belt was undone! Shit, this was embarrassing! Had he walked in a moment later, he would have caught them _in flagrante delicto_.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna back on outta here, and pretend this never happened," he apologized, but it appeared that he had killed whatever momentum they'd had going.

"Don't go, Sam! Jesus Christ, I'm the one who should be the one saying I'm sorry," Kate replied, disentangling herself from Dean. She must look an absolute sight! She really hoped Sam had not noticed where her hand was when he'd walked into the kitchen.

"Dean and I kinda got carried away in here! I'm not usually like this, I swear," she promised the younger Winchester. She really did not want him to think she routinely did this sort of thing. She NEVER did this sort of thing. Dean Winchester was the one huge exception.

"I got no complaints," quipped Dean, and Kate shoved his shoulder to shut him up. Well, he HAD one complaint, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. And it wasn't like he'd never been forced to deal with an unruly erection before. Although thanks to Sammy's presence, it was rapidly abating.

The situation was certainly an awkward one, but Sam did find it more than a bit amusing. Kate was pretty far from what up until now, he had thought of as Dean's "type", but given only a few minutes alone, they were all over each other. They might have only spent a night together, but they had a connection, and for that, Sam was grateful. Dean deserved some happiness.

"Hey, it's all right. Dean can just give me the keys to the Impala, and I'll leave you both to uh, get acquainted with each other. I'll come back in the morning and we can hit the books then, assuming the local library is open," he said, planning the next 12 hours or so out loud.

"It is," Kate nodded. "A couple of years ago, some morons in town wanted to close it on Sundays to save money, but I went to the town meeting and told them closing on the weekend was a stupid idea since the weekends are always the busiest. If they wanted to save money, have less hours during the week. My mom always said that Tuesdays were pretty much dead." At Sam and Dean's questioning looks, she quickly added, "My mom was the town librarian until she moved away a few years ago. She got married and moved to Boston. Her husband Dave is a great guy, but he's not my dad. Which you guys probably guessed. And now I am totally babbling again." Nothing like nearly getting caught with her pants down to get her mouth running.

Both of them gave her smiles that indicated she absolutely was babbling, but that neither of them would remark on it.

"What are you guys going to be researching anyway? Maybe I can help. I spent a lot of time in that library as a kid," she suggested, even though she knew she did have work that needed to get done.

Hearing her question, Sam knew that Dean must have never gotten around to telling Kate about what they did for a living. Which just might account for the fact she hadn't kicked the two of them out on their rear ends yet. There was no easy way to do this, and perhaps the best thing to do was to treat it like a Band-Aid. Ripping it off fast was better than breaking it to her slowly.

"Kate, Dean and I basically investigate supernatural stuff for a living. It's sort of the family business," he explained.

"You guys are researchers? That's awesome! You can make a living doing that! My mom would love to talk to you guys. Are you published or anything?" she excitedly asked. It's certainly not what she expected Dean to do. He seemed more like the type of guy who got his hands dirty to make a living. Sam, on the other hand, she could easily see as being a bit of a bookworm.

Dean pulled away from her side to stand next to his brother. "We do more than investigate. Sam and I kill all the stuff you think doesn't exist. It's all real, Kate. Except Bigfoot," he amended, "That's just a hoax."

Sam and Dean didn't look nuts, and while Kate understood the words coming out their mouths, in her head, it just didn't compute. "What kind of stuff are we talking about here? Like vampires?" That she almost could believe. There were legends about blood-suckers all over the world, and there was probably a reason for that.

The two nodded, and then quickly ran down a rapid-fire list of everything from fairies to some cannibalistic creature called a wendigo, all of which they claimed to have dealt with.

"And demons, Dean, don't forget the demons," Sam added.

"Demons? Like really real demons? From h-e-double hockey sticks? That can possess people?" Kate found herself asking. Her chin nearly hit the floor when Dean nodded in confirmation. Assuming they weren't certifiable, she could now understand why the increased frequency of dreams had brought Dean back. "And because this is what you do, you figure one of these creatures may be responsible for the dreams that Dean and I are having?"

"Exactly. Although it could be a witch too," Sam clarified. "You've never messed around with that kind of stuff, right? Even as a joke."

"Does watching _The Craft_ and _Teen Witch_ a lot count?"

"_Teen Witch_?" Dean asked, not recognizing what he assumed was a movie title.

"Oh God, it's this hilariously 80s movie with Robin Lively, that I was pretty obsessed with as a teenager. Just Google it, and you'll see what I mean." Kate found herself in the strange position of being more embarrassed about revealing her soft spot for so-bad-they're-good movies than being caught ready to get down with Dean. It was right up there with _Center Stage_ when it came to that particular genre.

"Sam, I think she's in the clear. There's gotta be something else responsible," Dean replied. He was going to have to check to see if clips of that movie were on YouTube. He wanted to know more about her, and checking out some movie she liked as a kid would be a good place to start. That was more his speed than spending hours looking through dusty books anyway.

"I just doubt you guys are going to find very much of anything of interest at the library. Nothing very interesting ever happens here," she said matter-of-factly. "But my offer to help still stands."

Another set of eyes would be helpful, but Sam knew they would have to say no. One of the things they were going to have to look into was her background, and that might be tricky if she was sitting beside them. "That's all right. I'm sure you have work stuff to do tomorrow. But if Dean and I find anything, we'll swing by and let you know about it." She appeared to accept that as an explanation.

"I'll get going, and leave you and Dean alone. You probably have a lot to talk about," he said diplomatically, even though he doubted there would be much talking going on after he left. He raised his eyebrows toward Dean, hoping he'd get the unasked question.

"In my coat pocket," he answered, and with that, his big lummox of a brother walked down the hall, and within a couple of minutes Dean heard the front door close behind him.

"Now then, where did we leave off?" he asked as he pulled Kate back into a searing kiss. For both their sakes, he hoped the counter had been sturdily constructed.

* * *

**OK, I know it's evil to leave it there, but I promise to make the wait for the next part worth it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**As promised, here's the next installment! One suggestion, at one point I mention the song "When the Levee Breaks" by Led Zeppelin is playing, so if you're unfamiliar with it, you may want to cue it up on YouTube just to have it playing in the background. It's probably my favorite Zeppelin song (sorry, Dean, I still like "Ramble On", I promise!) and I think it's dead sexy. I hope you all agree. Enjoy! I think we could all use with happy thoughts after this week.**

* * *

It was hard to even put coherent thoughts together while Dean was kissing her. His mouth and tongue were doing unspeakably pleasurable thing to hers; and when he touched her Kate felt like she was going to spontaneously combust. He reached a hand down to the juncture of her thighs, and urged her open them a bit more. She complied, and a second later a strong finger was rubbing her swollen clit through her jeans. She felt her knees buckle, but Dean grabbed her before she could fall, and propped her up against the counter, all the while never missing a stroke.

His voice was a thick rasp when he ordered her to come, and she was helpless to resist him. The orgasm hit her hard, and she found herself clutching at his lean hips while she rode out the deep tremors. Kate kept waiting for them to subside, but Dean kept the pressure up, extending the orgasm until she heard herself cry out his name. It sounded like a cross between a plea and a curse.

Only when he willed it, did he let her come down back to earth.

Instinct told him no man had ever been able to make her come like that. And he was able to do that to her when she was more or less fully clothed. He couldn't wait to get her naked. He had no idea how long they were going to have together, and he was determined to make her come as many times as she could. He would use all the tools he had at his disposal; his hands, his mouth, his cock. It was going to be a night that neither of them would soon forget.

It therefore came and something of a shock when he felt her putting light pressure on his shoulders, pushing him away. He backed off accordingly, even though he was panting and fully aroused. He needed to fuck her more than he needed to breathe, but Dean had never forced himself on any woman, and he wasn't about to start with her.

"Something wrong?" he asked, his breathing slowly returning to its normal steady rate.

"Yes. No," she replied, confusion evident in her tone, and the way she was shaking her head. Dean could tell she was trying to figure out what to say in her head before she said anything aloud.

"Dean, we have to stop this, right now," she said firmly, but her words failed to even convince herself. "We can't do this here."

In response, he gave her a wicked glance that assured her that he didn't consider the fact they were in her kitchen to be an insurmountable obstacle. "Lead the way, baby. If you're more comfortable in bed, that's fine with me. I don't really care. I just need to get inside you."

Good Lord, she was going to dissolve into a puddle on the floor if he kept saying things like that to her! His words were short circuiting the part of her brain responsible for reasoning, leaving only the primitive instinct that told her to mate with this powerful male as many times as he would have her. But she had to exercise some self-control. She could do it, she just needed to catch her breath first.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep inhale and exhaled slowly, letting the calm wash over her. "I can't leave the kitchen a mess like this, Dean. I gotta clean it up."

She wanted to clean! This had to be a first. No woman had ever turned him down in order to do dishes. "They can't wait 'til morning?"

"No, they can't. I can't stand messy kitchens. They make me bonkers," she offered by way of an explanation. "I won't be able to concentrate on anything if I know there's a pile of dirty pots and pans waiting for me down here."

"And we wouldn't want that, would we?" Dean asked, half-mocking her. "Although I'm sure I could distract you for a few hours."

True enough. Kate had little doubt Dean could wrap her around his little finger if he set his mind to it. But she didn't want to let him know that he had that kind of power over her. Frankly, even she found it a bit unsettling just how easy it was for him to overpower her. And not just physically.

"Why don't you help me? Together we'll get this cleaned up in no time, and then I'm all yours."

"Is that a promise?"

Kate quickly made an "x" across her chest, indicating her seriousness. Dean sighed heavily, relenting. He couldn't ever recall doing anything like this before in order to get laid, but hey, there was a first time for everything. Wordlessly, he stripped off his flannel shirt and draped it over a nearby chair so it wouldn't get messed up. He was going to need it tomorrow morning.

He followed her over to table, and began grabbing plates and silverware. She did the same, and carried everything over to the counter by the sink. One by one she rinsed each dish, and then carefully placed it into the dishwasher. She stacked each piece just so, making sure to make the most of the available space. Just watching her, Dean began to comprehend that she was just naturally a very meticulous person. At least when it came to certain things. He seemed to remember she wasn't so fussy when it came to the state of her bedroom. He distinctly recalled her bed had been unmade the last time he'd been here.

Once the table was clear, there were still a few things left to wash, and she tossed him a sponge, calling, "Heads up, Dean! You wash, I'll dry."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" he tried reasoning with her, but she wouldn't give him the time of day.

"And how exactly are you going to put anything away? You don't know where anything goes," she replied quite logically. Smart chicks were tough.

Satisfied she had won that little skirmish; Kate got the soapy water going, and then stepped away from the sink to get out of the way. At least, that's what she tried to do, only to find herself pinned between the sink and six feet of aroused, virile male.

"Dean, you're being very naughty," she demurred, trying to sound like she disapproved; all the while she was secretly thrilled by his reaction to her.

"That's the idea," he drawled, nipping at her neck, just below her ear. One of the nice things about Kate's height was that he could easily hit her vulnerable pulse points without straining his neck.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a big blob of bubbles hit him square in the face, and he was forced to pull away so he could wipe his face off. Seeing an opening, Kate squirmed out of his grasp, giggling all the while. Damn, she was quick!

He hated to admit it, but he really liked the fact Kate challenged him. He might win in the end, but she was going to make him work for it.

"You're going to pay for that," he warned as he got elbows deep in warm, sudsy water.

"Oh, I'm sure I will," she replied with a knowing wink, sounding like she was looking forward to it. She hadn't felt desirable in a very long time, and to have a man like Dean so clearly wanting her did wonders for her self-esteem.

She watched Dean closely as he washed up, making sure they were spotless before he laid them in the dish drainer. Once she was sure he wasn't going to do a half-assed job, she grabbed a dish towel from the drawer where she kept them, and started to put things away. As she put a platter away, she spied the sauté pan that Dean had sent flying, and handed it to him. Not realizing how heavy the pan was, Dean's arm buckled and he let it go, resulting in a very large splash that soaked his black t-shirt and gave him another face full of suds.

Kate couldn't suppress a laugh, and Dean threw her a murderous look over his left shoulder. "Girl, you should have told me that pan was heavy enough to kill someone."

"Sorry, Dean. I guess I'm used to it so that I don't notice it. I would have though a big strong man like you who kills demons for a living wouldn't have any trouble with a little old pan," she teased, batting her eye lashes at him.

"Very funny, ha ha. I'm glad you're enjoying this little display," he said, gesturing to his soaked shirt.

"Extremely. It's not every day I get a wet t-shirt contest in my kitchen. Although I am impressed with your dishwashing skills," she offered as she put the last item away and carefully closed the cupboard that housed it. That done, she sidled up to him, and whispered in his ear, "I guess that means I'd better let you stay the night."

In short order, Dean dumped the water in the sink, and turned his attention back to Kate, but to his intense chagrin she had already left the kitchen. He caught a glimpse of her retreating into the living room, just as a very familiar whine of a harmonica signified the beginning of "When the Levee Breaks". Dean wasn't entirely sure the God existed, but if He did, the Man really did have a fantastic sense of timing.

As he entered the large front room, Kate was getting her groove on, swaying back and forth in time with the music. That quickly gave away to her shaking her hips in a slow grind that he would not have guessed she was capable of. It was scortchingly hot.

She swiveled her hips around, and upon seeing him watching her, she came to a dead stop, and blushed bright red, embarrassed he'd caught her. "I couldn't resist, I just love that song. I can't help dancing to it."

"That's not all it's good for," Dean replied, and then reached down and grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

Seeing his bare chest, flipped a switch inside Kate, and despite her best intentions for them to have sex like civilized grown-ups in her bedroom, there was no way they were going to make it there now. The idea was slightly terrifying, given the fact she'd only ever had sex on a bed. The closest she'd ever gotten to doing it somewhere else had been with Dean in the shower years ago. It was almost perversely appropriate he'd be the one to christen this room with her.

"Your turn," he ordered, his eyes hot with the kind of deep desire she'd always dreamed of being lavished on her. She quickly complied, feeling far less self-conscious than she normally would at this point. Sex had never been easy for her, even after Dean. She certainly enjoyed the hell out of it, but fears about her body still lingered. But having his eyes rake her up and down was so intensely arousing, she actually found herself wanting to be bare before him.

Dean was pleased to note that while Kate still appeared to favor practical flesh-toned bras, this one was lace covered and fit her perfectly, creating some of the most gorgeous cleavage he'd ever had the privilege to lay his eyes on. It would look even better lying on the polished hardwood.

"Couch or floor?"

"Couch," she answered quickly, barely thinking about it.

He stepped out of his boots, and shucked his socks off, the floor feeling cool beneath his now bare feet. He forced himself to walk toward her slowly, letting her get an eyeful of him, enjoying how much she enjoyed just looking at him. Once he got to her, he reached around her back and deftly unsnapped her bra, using both hands to draw it off her shoulders, and then letting gravity do the rest. For the first time he noticed her shoulders were lightly dusted with pale gold freckles, including a tempting beauty mark near her right collarbone.

The tiny discovery pleased him intensely. He wanted to learn all the secrets he hadn't had the time to perceive before; he wanted to discover things about her that even she didn't know about herself.

Dean drew her into his embrace, his mouth taking possession of hers while his hands eased her jeans off her hips. In anticipation this might happen, Kate had taken the time to make sure she wore the lace panties that matched her bra, but Dean didn't even look at them when he pulled them off. She kicked the whole mess off to the side, leaving herself bare and vulnerable before him.

He placed one hand on the curve of her waist, and the other slid down to where it had been before while she'd still been dressed. He pressed a single digit inside her, and she couldn't stop herself from hissing with pleasure.

"Feels good, baby, doesn't it? God you're so fucking wet, just dripping all over my fingers." Dean added another, and continued to pump his fingers in and out, as Kate just held onto him for dear life. She arched up and into him, seeing bright flashing lights behind closed eyes as her body edged closer and closer to another heart-pounding orgasm.

And when the inevitable happened, when she broke hard against him, she quickly pulled him into a kiss, running her hands through his hair. She needed to feel his soft firm mouth against hers; she needed to stroke his tongue with hers because at the moment it was the only way she could communicate. Besides, words simply couldn't convey her feelings at the moment.

Thankfully, Dean seemed to understand that, letting her tongue dance with his until he was the one to pull away. Kate didn't have to ask the reason why; she could feel it. His erection was hard and insistent against her hip. For a moment she felt guilty that he'd postponed his own pleasure in order to see to hers.

In yet another tender gesture she hadn't anticipated, Dean gently took her hand in his, leading her to her plush dark green couch. Their fingers linked for a barely a moment, but in that instant Kate felt closer to Dean than she had with any other man, including her ex, with whom she'd been in a long term relationship. Falling in to bed, as it were, was not her usual practice, but there was just a rightness about this that she couldn't explain and didn't want to.

As she carefully lay back, she had the fleeting thought that it had been a good thing she'd bought the longer couch instead of going with the smaller version. Otherwise the two of them might not have fit! Even now, the logistics were going to be a bit tricky, but she trusted that Dean knew what he was doing.

He disposed of his remaining clothes, and she let her gaze linger over the body she'd come to know so well in her dreams. The handprint on his shoulder was still there, but was not the intense shade it had been. The tattoo on his chest was no longer dark black but had faded into the more familiar indigo of most of the ink she had seen on others. Various scars littered his arms, acting as silent testimony to the brutal nature of what he and his brother did.

They didn't detract from his forceful male beauty, only serving to underline the fact that this was a man who used his body on a daily basis in ways she didn't yet understand. Kate wanted to though. If he would let her, she wanted to know this man emotionally as well as physically. It was a crazy thought in the given circumstances, but she had it nonetheless.

Dean eased himself on top of her, not wanting to put his full weight on her. It was out of habit more than anything. Kate wasn't exactly small, so he probably didn't need to move quite so gingerly; but he didn't want her to feel like he was rushing things either. Women didn't like to feel like they were being rushed, even when they were eager to fuck.

And make no mistake, Dean could tell she was just as eager as he was. Her legs were parted, waiting for him. An instinct as old as time was driving him to get inside her, but he still had enough functioning brain cells to realize that something very important was missing.

"Shit," he muttered just loud enough for Kate to hear. "My goddamn pants with my goddamn wallet and the goddamn condoms are fucking out of reach."

He was about to ease off her, but her eyes softened with sympathy while simultaneously her grip on his shoulders grew tighter and more determined.

"Dean, it's OK, I'm on the pill," she said softly, and then she continued, "And I know I shouldn't say this, but I trust you." Kate watched as relief palpably washed over him. "Now fuck me already."

An instant later he had driven deep inside her, and for a heart-stopping moment they didn't move; letting the feeling of oneness just linger. It quickly gave way, and soon enough Dean's thrusts were coming hard, long, and fast, designed to relieve them both of the tension that had been building from the moment they'd seen each other again just a few hours earlier.

With each one, he nearly pulled all the way out, but then he'd slide back in. She was loving the rhythm, her hips were driving back at him, and her pussy pulsed around his cock. The swirling music was the only sound in the room other than their heavy breathing and the occasional groan.

Despite that, Dean felt like his senses were being overwhelmed. She was hotter and wetter than any other woman she could ever remember, and she just fit him so damn perfectly he would have fucked her this way all night if it was possible. Even with the relative lack of foreplay, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. But he was bound and determined to make her come at least one more time before he surrendered to his body.

Rather helpfully, Kate wrapped her leg that was currently handing off the couch around his hip, allowing him change his angle of penetration. As a result, Dean was able to shorten but also deepen his stroke without losing his leverage. The word "yes" began to fall from her lips with each stroke until he felt her entire body begin to shake with the force of her orgasm.

Once the tremors subsided, Kate wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and dragged him down to her, whispering into his ear, "Let go, Dean." Dean would never have admitted that he'd been holding himself back, and yet she'd sensed it. Freed by her words, he gave himself the permission to be overcome by his release.

The force of it hit him harder than he expected, and once it passed, he found his arms felt like rubber and he could no longer hold himself up. Dean collapsed against Kate's chest, and he immediately apologized. "Just give me a sec, and I'll move."

"No rush, Dean. You're not that heavy, really," she replied genuinely. It might seem a bit silly, but she was inordinately pleased that he needed a moment to recover. It was funny, she hadn't smoked in years, since college really, but for the first time in ages she was craving one.

"You don't happen to smoke, do you?" she asked him, since that was among the myriad of subjects they'd never managed to have a conversation about.

At the question, Dean tilted his head to the side, not sure what to make of her question, but he answered anyway, "Nope. You do?"

"Not exactly. The appeal of the post-coital cigarette just suddenly became obvious to me," she explained, and he couldn't help himself from laughing at her naiveté. The laughter rumbled up through him, shaking them both. It had been a long time since he'd been able to laugh like that.

The mirth softened his features, and Kate lightly ran her fingers along his sweat slicked brow and into his hair. She could sense there was vulnerability not that far below the surface, but she wasn't going to pry. He projected such strength, but even though he bore physical scars, she was certain there were much deeper, psychic ones.

He had to.

If what he had Sam said about what they did was true, they had to have seen and possibly done some horrible things. And she had thought her life had been tough! Her troubles appeared to be small compared to whatever he had endured. He wasn't the type to confide in a stranger though, and she understood that. She wasn't one to spill her guts to anyone until she was absolutely sure she could trust them.

Kate implicitly trusted Dean though. When she'd said that to him only a few minutes earlier, she'd meant it. She couldn't put a finger on why she did, but she did, and she wasn't going to question that.

She edged up a bit onto her forearms, and Dean managed to shift his weight a bit without actually getting off her. "So what's next?" she inquired, feeling a bit ill at ease. Their clothes were strewn around the room, tossed aside in the frenzy. Was she supposed to grab her stuff, and then they'd go upstairs? Or were they just going to stay here all night?

"Well, we could give the springs in the cushions another work out," he quipped, "Or you could just head up those stairs, and I'll be right up with our stuff."

"Dean, I'm naked."

"You don't say. I happen to like you that way."

"And you are either insatiable or crazy," she said with a huff.

"Whichever one you prefer, baby," he replied right back. He didn't totally get her bashfulness in light of what they'd just done, but it was kind of sweet. It reminded him of just how jaded he'd become about sex. For her it was still kind of new (at least that was the vibe he got), so from that perspective he understood why she might be a bit uneasy walking around him without her clothes on.

He rolled off her, and she sat up, resisting the urge to cover herself with her hands. Calmly she walked over to her docked iPod and turned the music off. That done, she headed upstairs, he eyes lingering on Dean as long as she could.

She had a feeling it was going to be a long night. Thank God she didn't have work in the morning.


	6. Chapter 6

Kate woke at 9 AM, and nearly had a panic attack when she looked at the alarm clock by her bed. She hadn't slept this late in ages! While she generally did sleep in on Sundays that usually meant waking up at 7 instead of her typical 3:30 AM alarm. If there was one huge downside to her job it was the hours. In order to have fresh product available for when the shop opened, she and Jane had to be in by 4 AM. Jane would typically leave by 2 in the afternoon while she stayed until closer to 4 PM in order to prep for the next morning. And so it went, six days a week, except on Sundays which was her day to work at home and to take care of any personal business she might have.

She shot out of bed with a start, nearly forgetting that she had company. And that she wasn't wearing any jammies.

Becoming aware of her state of undress, she threw on her old bathrobe, and was just knotting it closed when the figure sprawled on the other side of her bed spoke.

"Come back to bed, baby. Want you again," he said, his speech slightly slurred because he wasn't fully conscious yet.

She had a hard time believing that, considering the fact they'd fucked like rabbits half the night. She probably should not have joked that Dean was insatiable because as it turned out both of them hadn't been able to get enough last night. It was enough to make a grown woman blush. Kate wasn't sure what had gotten into her. Maybe it had just been the fact she hadn't had sex in nearly a year. She didn't like the idea that he was solely responsible for her newfound sexual enthusiasm.

"Dean, it's late. Sam will be here any minute, and you're not even up yet," she lectured, even as she enjoyed the view of his beautiful body in repose. It was almost criminally unfair how effortlessly gorgeous he was. She had to work hard to barely earn the distinction of being pretty, and he just oozed attractiveness by existing.

Dean rolled over and grudgingly opened his eyes, and Kate gradually came into focus standing at the foot of the bed. Her curly brown hair was well tousled, looking so much sexier than when she kept it tied back and out of the way. Between the hair and glasses, she brought to mind a hundred different fantasies he'd ever had about sexy secretaries and librarians.

Deliberately he turned up the charm, trying to lure her back to bed for one last tumble before Sam arrived. "It's OK, sweet pea. Sam won't be here until at least 10. He knows to keep his distance."

"It's after 9," she replied flatly, all business, seemingly immune to his powers of persuasion. "Why don't you take a quick shower and get yourself ready, and I'll get breakfast. I can shower after you and Sam leave."

Dean considered her suggestion for a moment, and then indicated his acceptance by flinging the covers aside, grabbing his clothes, and heading in the direction of the second floor bathroom. As Kate was taking a moment to ponder just how Dean had gotten so comfortable in his own skin, he stuck his head back through the doorway.

"Can I have a piece of pie?" he asked with all the sweetness of a five year old.

A part of her wanted to insist he have a nutritious breakfast but there was no way she could refuse him. "Yes Dean, you may."

"Ice cream too?" he continued, trying to see if she'd push back. Kate didn't dignify him with a direct response, instead she just narrowed her eyes behind her glasses and gave him a look that communicated he had taken things too far.

But she did have a question for him. "How do you like your eggs?"

"However you're having yours. Don't go to any trouble, Kate."

"It's not Dean, I promise. Enjoy the shower," she replied as she made her way out of the bedroom to join him in the hallway. "I'll see you downstairs when you're ready."

Once Dean nodded in agreement and headed back to the bathroom, she made her way downstairs and set about figuring out breakfast. First and foremost, she got the coffee brewing, making a full pot just in case Sam arrived and wanted some. Next came the eggs, and she cracked a few in a bowl one handed, and beat them with a bit of water, pepper, and onion flakes until they were light and frothy.

Above her head she could hear the rush of water through the pipes, telling her that Dean had figured out her shower, and was in the midst of cleaning himself up after what had been a long night. In order to keep herself from getting too distracted by the thought of naked, wet Dean, she kept her mind on the task at hand, and got out the remaining items she'd need to complete breakfast.

While she waited for Dean she made herself some toast from the left over bread from dinner. The eggs would have to wait until he got his perfectly shaped rear downstairs.

* * *

Sam arrived not long before 10 AM, and instead of leaving the Impala by the curb he pulled straight into the driveway. If Dean was going to be staying here for a couple days, he didn't think Kate would have any objection to his car occasionally sharing the driveway with hers. He wasn't particularly looking forward to seeing her this morning, privately preferring to keep her at an arm's length in order to maintain his objectivity. He knew Dean wouldn't be able to, which left him as the Winchester to play the bad cop. It wasn't a position he often found himself in.

Left to his own devices last night, he'd started doing what digging he could into Kate and her background. Nearly everything online about her had been related to her business. While it had its own Facebook page, Kate did not have one of her own. He did find a couple of articles that were written about her recipe for chocolate chip cookies winning the top prize at the Iowa State Fair not too long after she'd opened her bakery. There had even been an accompanying photo of her with a big blue ribbon.

He dutifully knocked on her front door, and was greeted by Dean's voice nearly drowning out Kate's inviting him in. As he expected, the two of them were in the kitchen sitting around the island enjoying what appeared to be a late breakfast. Kate was still in her bathrobe indicating they hadn't been up all that long. Sam had more than a fair guess at the reason behind their late start.

"Morning, Sam," she warmly greeted him, getting up from her seat. "Can I get you some coffee? There's plenty already made. I can even get you some scrambled eggs if you give me a couple minutes."

"The coffee would be great," Sam replied. It had to be better than what he was able to brew in the motel room. "You don't have to trouble yourself about the eggs though, I've had breakfast," he continued, unknowingly echoing his brother.

She poured him a steaming mug of coffee, and passed it to him, pointing out the small pitcher containing cream and the sugar bowl to him. "If you like that fake sugar stuff, I have that too, just let me know how many packets you need," she added, playing the part of gracious hostess perfectly. It was enough to make Sam suspicious.

"Sam, you really should take her up on the offer of the eggs. No lie, they're the best I've ever had. I have no idea what the hell she did to them to make them so good," Dean raved. Sam didn't respond, but mentally filed away Dean's remark and just continued to fix his coffee liberally adding sugar and cream.

Kate colored modestly, clearly a bit embarrassed by Dean's effusiveness, but she answered Dean's rhetorical question anyway. "The secret is butter, butter, and more butter. And not cranking the heat up too high. Just because you CAN make scrambled eggs fast doesn't mean you SHOULD."

Sam wasn't sure how to respond to that, having little experience with cooking, and for a moment there was an uneasy silence between the three of them. Kate breached it with her inability to beat around the bush.

"So how long do you guys expect it's going to take to check up on me?" she asked in what Sam was beginning to realize was her typical straight-forward manner. There wasn't a whole lot he or Dean was going to be able to put past her. It was both refreshing and a pain in the ass, considering their job was much easier when they could convincingly lie to people. And considering the music she played last night, she probably would have seen through the great names in rock aliases in five seconds had they ever tried to use them on her.

"I'll bring Dean back in a few hours. We can talk then," Sam replied evenly. "But we're not just going to be looking at you, Kate. I want to look into this town in general." He hoped that would make her feel a bit more at ease. If she was dangerous, he certainly didn't want to arouse her suspicions.

Both men watched Kate intently as she wiped her hands on a dish towel and then casually tossed it on the counter. "I'm more than happy to answer any questions either of you may have. My life is pretty much an open book. I don't have anything to hide," she answered confidently. Sam certainly didn't miss the flash of anger in her eyes when she said it. She resented his lack of faith in her, but he also suspected that deep down she understood and respected it.

"I'll even get my financial records in order so that you can go over my personal finances as well as the business." Privately, Kate was pretty sure if she wanted to hide something from them she could. After all, she did have an undergraduate degree in economics, something she doubted either of them had much experience with. Sam might, but she'd bet good money Dean never went to college. But she certainly didn't think either man lacked for brains, she just had an edge when it came to numbers.

"That's nice of you to offer, Kate. Isn't it, Sam?" Dean offered, trying to diffuse the tension he could see building between his sibling and whatever Kate was. She wasn't his girlfriend, and while the term "lover" was accurate, there was a certain coldness to the term that just didn't fit.

She walked them both to the door and wished them luck in their quest after Sam finished up his coffee. Before they parted, Dean gave her a quick kiss good-bye, enjoying how it made her eyes glow. He took that image of her with him, knowing that when they returned he was going to be forced to ask her questions she might not want to answer, no matter what she'd just said.

Everyone had secrets.

* * *

Once they were safely back in the Impala and had pulled away from the house (with Dean behind the wheel, of course), Sam was unable to resist turning to his big brother and asking, "So how'd you sleep last night?" even though he knew the only answer he'd get from Dean was a scowl.

"Hey, I'm just trying to make sure you're going to be awake enough to help me with research. Otherwise, I was gonna suggest you rest in car. Believe me Dean, I have no desire to learn ANY details about what happened after I left last night," he explained. It was basically true, although he did find it interesting how close Dean and Kate had become after one night. Time would only tell if what they were feeling was real, or if it was just result of some spell.

"I'll be fine, Sam. You just tell me how to get where we're going," he replied with his taciturn gruffness firmly intact. It was good to know some things about his brother never changed.

It was a short ride to the public library, which made sense, given the fact Kate's mom used to work there. As she had said last night, the library was busy. There were families with kids milling around the children's section, and a few teenagers were hunched over laptops working on papers. Sam and Dean managed to find a quiet corner somewhere near the 500 section of the Dewey decimal system, and they divided up the work.

Dean drew the assignment of finding out more about Kate, while Sam concentrated on looking into the town itself. Research had never really been his thing, but he didn't mind the opportunity to find out more about Kate though he didn't really expect to find out anything jaw dropping. That would probably take direct questioning, not checking out old high school yearbooks and cyberspace.

After a couple hours of minding their own business, an older woman approached their table, eying them both suspiciously. "Do you boys have library cards? You don't look like you're from around here."

"We don't, ma'am, but this is a public library," Sam replied, looking up the stack up newspapers he was meticulously going through.

Seeing that the woman didn't appreciate Sam's somewhat smart-ass answer, Dean quickly chimed in, "We're friends of Kate Hager. Just visiting for a couple of days."

The woman physically relaxed and even gave them both a smile. "You boys should have said so right away! If you need any help with whatever you're looking for, please come see me. I'll be at the research desk."

"Thanks ma'am, we'll keep that in mind," Dean replied, using his most respectful tone of voice.

At that point, they expected that the librarian would take her leave, but before she left she remarked, "She must have met you both in Chicago. It's nice you've stayed in touch."

"Yes ma'am. We just had to see the place where she grew up," he added without breaking a sweat, even though he was forced to think on his feet a bit. That seemed to satisfy her curiosity, and she left them both alone.

Once she was out of ear shot, Sam broadly mouthed "Chicago?" to Dean.

"She went to college there, Sam. I saw it somewhere in all this stuff," gesturing broadly at the pile of yearbooks and school newspapers he'd been stuck leafing through. He was never going to complain about Internet research again. Books were about five times worse.

"What school?"

Dean took a moment to find the article that had contained the graduation plans of the class of '96. Once he found it, and read the entry next to Kate's name. "College of the University of Chicago."

Sam was suitably impressed. It was one of the hardest schools in the country to get into and was famous for its "common core" program for undergraduates. It was very academically vigorous and even had a phys ed requirement. And yet, instead of making big money with her prestigious degree, she was running a bakery. Then again, he went to Stanford.

"Any idea what she majored in?" Sam inquired.

It took a few more moments of Dean flipping through articles, but he had an answer for that as well. "Well, it doesn't say "major" just "concentration". In economics."

"Holy shit."

"What? Is that a big deal?" Dean asked.

"Pretty much, yeah. The Chicago school of economics is pretty famous, but that's more for graduate school," Sam said thinking out loud. "Let's just say your girlfriend is seriously overqualified for her current job. And probably her previous job too."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Whatever, Dean. Anything else interesting you've come across so far?"

"Not really, Sammy. She's older than I thought. Turns out, she was born a couple months before me. I knew we met on her birthday, I just didn't know which. Now I get why she was so upset that night." Dean went on to explain that if his math was correct, it must have been her 30th birthday.

Sam nodded, knowing that women could be sensitive about that sort of thing. He was just a bit surprised that Kate would be. "Dean, did I miss something? What do you mean you understand why she was upset that night? I don't follow."

Dean grew circumspect, not wanting the conversation to get in to dangerous territory. "I don't think she'd want me to get into the details with you, Sam. She does have a right to some privacy."

"Come on, Dean! It could be important," demanded Sam.

"I promise you, Sam. It really isn't. Just drop it," Dean cautioned his brother, making it clear the discussion of the subject was closed.

The problem was, Sam just wasn't about to let it go. He was frustrated with Dean's evasiveness and the over-protective attitude he'd quickly developed when it came to Kate. She's boasted her life was an open book, but here Dean was trying to shield her like she was some sort of damsel in distress. If he wouldn't tell him, he'd just ask her about that night himself.

Resigning himself to having to wait to get those answers, he gently prodded Dean further. "Anything else?"

Dean wrinkled his brow, thinking for a moment. "It's probably nothing. But you can see for yourself," he said, grabbing the yearbooks from the years Kate had been in high school. He quickly flipped to the section showing the senior class, and showed Sam her portrait. "She's not wearing glasses."

"She probably took them off because she was embarrassed about them. That's pretty normal in high school," Sam theorized.

"I thought so too, but I've looked through all four of these, and even though she doesn't pop up very often, she never has glasses on. Either she got them not that long ago, which is pretty unusual, or she wore contacts back then. I mean as far as I can tell, she only takes her glasses off to sleep and shower, which tells me she needs them pretty badly."

Sam could see Dean's point. Not too many women switched back to glasses after wearing contacts. Maybe when they were older and didn't want to fuss with them anymore, but not when they're still relatively young.

For the next half hour or so, Dean guided him through four years of the Clearwater Eagle from 1993 to 1996. The first thing Sam noticed was that Kate had changed remarkably little since then. Her hairstyle was even the same. The only major difference he noted was that now she was a bit thinner, but not by a whole lot. High school must have been less than a great time for her, he surmised. Teenagers weren't known for being exactly kind to the academically gifted and the chubby.

That tale was borne out as they continued to pour over the volumes. In her own way, she'd been as much of an outcast as either of them had ever been. She didn't participate in any sports; instead there pictures of her winning various scholastic awards at the end of each school year. And with each year she looked increasingly miserable. In every photo she was swathed in black clothes from head to foot, with hunched shoulders, trying to camouflage her height.

There were no candid photos of her at any of the school dances, including the prom. She had belonged to a couple of clubs, like the National Honor Society and a group that helped tutor struggling classmates. The only picture where she genuinely looked happy was with a small group of students called the Latin Club. Now that WAS interesting. The bottom of the picture noted that Kate Hager was the club founder and president.

Taken as a whole, Sam couldn't help feeling sympathy as the portrait of her emerged. Dean appeared to be stricken by her history as well, saying little as they flipped through the books. He was beginning to regret feeling so hostile toward her only a couple of hours ago. She'd had a tough time as a kid in this town, and yet instead of running away from this place and never looking back, she'd returned and made a success of herself.

That was another thing he and Dean would need to ask her about.

"So did you find anything weird out about this town?" Dean asked, anxious to get the focus of the conversation away from Kate.

"Oh yeah," Sam responded immediately. "There is definitely weirdness at work here." Sam grabbed the notes he'd made as he'd researched, and began to share them with Dean. As far as he could tell, Clearwater was a pretty typical mid-west town. He found more than a few examples of suspicious deaths and disappearances over the years. Even a mention of a haunted house and a girl being possessed. If he had to guess, the town had probably been visited by hunters a few times in the past but he didn't recognize the names of anyone.

"Sounds fine so far, Sammy. What's up then?"

Treading carefully, Sam asked Dean if he knew the date he'd first met Kate.

"If it was her 30th birthday, it would have been October 17, 2008," he supplied, after thinking a moment.

"Right, that fits with everything I'm seeing, Dean," Sam replied, glancing back over his notes.

"And what exactly is that, all knowing one?" Dean teased, waiting to be amazed.

Wanting to make sure they weren't overheard by any of the other library patrons, Sam got up from his side of the table and took the seat directly next to Dean. "You know how Kate said that nothing ever happens here. It turns out she's right." He let that sink in for a moment, and then continued. "Ever since the fall of 2008, there's been zero supernatural activity in this town. And given the fact we've had at least two near Apocalypses since then, that's pretty damn weird."

Dean had to admit that Sam made an excellent point. How the hell had this little place escaped all the chaos that ensued after the final seal had been broken? And don't even get him started on last year.

"Are you sure, Sam?"

"As sure as you are that Kate's just a nice girl that makes great pie." He grabbed a couple of newspaper articles from 2009 and '10 to emphasize his point. "The local paper even mentions all the stuff that was going down, sometimes in just the next town over. The local Baptist church was sure it was the end times. And yet here, NOTHING. No suspicious deaths, no disappearances. Not even last year when the Leviathans were going to turn us all into their cattle."

This place had even managed to avoid the great corn syrup tainting? That was not something Dean could ignore. He hated the idea that somehow Kate had any role in this but the evidence that she was linked to it was fairly damning. The timing with their hook up had to be more than coincidental. "It's almost like the Simpsons movie," he said, which drew an odd look from Sam.

"It's like someone enclosed the whole town in a big glass bubble to protect it," he clarified.

"Not to mention that in the middle of all of that, Kate Hager was able to start a new very successful business. How'd she even get a loan back then?" Sam added, just adding more support to his theory.

"Call me crazy Sam, but someone in this town having the mojo to insulate it from the Apocalypse seems like a slightly bigger deal," Dean reflected.

What he didn't say was that anyone who had that kind of power was probably not someone who operated on the side of good. And with all signs pointing towards Kate, Dean was starting to wonder if he'd completely misjudged her. There was always the possibility she was unaware of what she'd done, but it was unlikely. That kind of protection spell, or whatever deal had been struck to spare Clearwater would have taken someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

Both Winchesters mentally strapped themselves in. It was going to be a bumpy night.

* * *

**I hope that leaves you all intrigued about exactly what's going on! Thanks so much for taking the time to read and review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey there, everyone! This is a big chapter, and even though I've had in planned in my head for a while, writing it was not easy!**

* * *

"I still think it may just be that she made a deal with a crossroads demon to protect Clearwater," said Dean defiantly, not willing to buy Sam's theory that Kate was some sort of super charged witch.

"What kind of crossroads demon would have the power to grant that kind of request? And if one could, do you think they would have given her ten years? She'd be hell hound chow by now," replied Sam, not willing to shake from his position. He'd figured that Dean would be stubborn, but that he'd eventually come around to seeing things his way. The fact he insisted that Kate had to just be caught up in something she didn't fully understand just gave more credence to his belief that she had him under some spell.

"Maybe Crowley. He's the guy in charge, after all," Dean speculated as they argued back and forth in the car. He'd called her a just a few minutes ago to say they'd be on their way over to talk. She'd first asked him how their day had gone and then wanted to know if they were hungry. She'd even asked him if he and Sam had a favorite beer and whether or not she should pick up a six pack for them to share. Knowing what they were about to do, he'd murmured that he and Sam could buy their own beer and that neither of them wanted anything to eat.

It had been hard to even choke the words out. But the worst thing had been how happy she'd sounded on the phone. He could easily picture her with the sweet smile and soft expression that somehow managed to tug at his cynical hunter's heart.

And now he and Sam were going to go over there and accuse her of being some kind of witch.

Dean had even tried the argument that even if she was a witch, maybe she was a good witch. After all, what bad thing had she done? She'd protected her town. She opened a bakery. Neither seemed inherently evil to him. Sam, of course, pointed out that in order to do those things, she would have had to exchange or promise something in order to maintain the balance. To which Dean had countered that should mean there should be some weird deaths to investigate; instead they hadn't been able to find one.

He also pointed out that Sam hadn't been able to find any evidence of witchcraft anywhere in her home. And a witch can't be without her grimoire.

"Does she have any books in her room?" Sam asked.

Dean took a second to picture her room in his mind's eye, and sure enough there were two tall ones along the wall by her bedroom window. Of course, it wasn't like he'd looked through any of them. He'd had far better things to do than go through her bookshelves. A fact that Sam would be sure to throw in his face.

"Yes, she does. And no, Sam I haven't looked at any of them. I also realize that if she is a witch, her bedroom is the place she'd be most likely to keep that sort of thing. I'll be sure to take a look the next time I'm in there," he answered calmly, doing his best to keep a level head. Losing his temper would not convince Sam of anything. He already thought he was bewitched anyway.

"Are you even listening to yourself, Dean? The next time? How could you even think of sleeping with her again after what you know about her now?" Sam ranted. His irritation with Dean growing, he mumbled to himself, "Jesus, how good in bed could she possibly be?"

The Impala suddenly screeched to a halt. It would appear Sam said that a bit louder than he meant to.

"You have something to say to me, Sam?" inquired Dean with his arms crossed across his chest and a very dangerous gleam in his eye. If Sam had not been his brother, his nose would already be bloody and his ass would be out on the curb. Despite that fact, he was sorely tempted to kick him out anyway.

The honk of a car horn from behind them signaled a reprieve. Without a word, Dean put the car back in gear. Sam wisely chose to keep his mouth shut until they pulled into Kate's driveway.

"Dean, I want you to know I hope I'm wrong about her. I can tell you like her, and . . ." But he didn't get to finish his thought because Dean cut him off abruptly.

"How can you tell I like her, Sam? We barely know each other. Our relationship pretty much consists of screwing each other's brains out whenever we're left alone. She's not really that different from most of the women I've slept with," he said in an attempt to convince himself and Sam. It wasn't working very well with either of them.

"Dean, you care about her. I don't know how much of that is coming from you or from what she may have done to you, but you feel something for her. And as long as it feels real, it's got to hurt hearing that she's not the person you thought." Sam empathized with Dean more than he cared to admit. He was no stranger to having his emotions manipulated by a woman using less than natural means.

There was one thing that was bothering him though. He couldn't quite figure out how Dean fit into all of this. The timeline indicated that sometime shortly after they had parted company she'd set something in motion. That really wasn't a lot of time for her to acquire a lot of power. If her goal had somehow been to get Dean to return, how did that fit with sealing Clearwater off from outside evil influences? Could she have possibly known Dean was a hunter from the beginning, and this was nothing more than a long con to draw them both in?

It was enough to make his head hurt.

"Are you going to back me when we go in there?" he asked, nodding toward the looming front door.

Dean answered simply saying, "Sam, you're my brother. You know what that means." Sam registered his understanding with a nod and Dean continued, "So, we gonna do this now, or what?"

He didn't move from the car until Sam had already gotten out, needing a moment to compose himself. Dean would always back Sam, even though he had reservations. It went to very core of who he was. A few hours of great sex could not erase the fierce loyalty he bore toward those he considered family. But he wasn't going to shut Kate out either. He was going to listen, and more importantly watch what she had to say for herself. At the very least, she deserved to be judged by her own words and not merely Sam's suspicions.

He pounded the door a couple of times with a closed right fist, and a moment later Kate's voice answered, telling them to come right in since she'd left the door open. At some point, he was going to have to tell her that she really needed to start locking her doors. There was way too much stuff out there that could hurt her for her to be so casual with her safety.

Kate greeted them both as they re-entered her home. She was dressed far more casually than he'd ever seen her before; wearing a pair of faded blue jeans with frayed hems that really didn't fit her anymore and a navy t-shirt that said "Sanford Police" on the front. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and a quick glance around the room told him that she'd spent at least part of the day cleaning. Sam wasn't going to like that.

Cradled in her arms were several file folders, and she handed them to Sam for his inspection. "As promised, here are my business records, and my own personal bank statements. I threw in the last five years of tax returns, state and federal, as well. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask me, but I don't think you're going to find anything out of the ordinary."

"Thanks, but then again, you could have made sure of that," replied Sam, indicating the gloves were off, and he wasn't going to play nice. "I would imagine someone with your education and experience would have no problem making their financials look kosher even if they aren't."

It would seem they had found out where she had gone to college somewhere in the course of their research that afternoon. However, long before Dean and Sam had arrived, Kate had come to the conclusion the best way for her to deal with the coming interrogation was to be honest. Even if those truths might hurt or embarrass her. "That's true," she freely admitted. "But I can promise you I didn't. I've only ever lied to either of you once, and that was to Dean the night we met. And even then, I lied by omission rather than commission."

"And what exactly did you lie about?" Sam asked, curious and frankly interested. It was an interesting tactic she was trying here. Admit to lying about something that was likely to be fairly unimportant in the hopes they would leave her alone about the big ones. He had to say, she certainly was clever.

He and Dean sat down next to each other on her couch and she sat across from them in a comfy looking easy chair. He laid the pile of folders on the small coffee table directly in front on him so he could better concentrate on what he was saying and how she said it. But before Kate could answer, Dean intruded.

"You don't have to answer that, Kate," he insisted, and then he turned to Sam, giving him his best big brother glare. "I told you to leave it alone, Sam. It's not important."

Kate waved Dean off. "It's fine. I don't need you to defend me to your brother. I have no problem telling him why I was less than honest with you when we first met."

"As long as you're OK with it. You don't have to tell him anything you don't want to," he tried to assure her, but the firm set of her jaw told him that she was going to reveal all to Sam, no matter what it cost her personally.

The matter settled, Kate quickly recapped the events of her 30th birthday, including the god awful office celebration, and insults she had endured at the bar before Dean had arrived.

"So I was sitting there, all alone, feeling rather sorry for myself, and thinking that I should really be heading home, when out of nowhere your brother walked in." She quirked a crooked smile at the memory of Dean striding into the bar as though he owned the place. "I took one look at him and I wanted him. I knew why he was there, and I knew I had no shot at being the woman he'd pick up. He didn't even notice me at first."

"I didn't see her," Dean explained to Sam. "She was sort of hiding."

"You were too busy ogling Nina," she replied with the hint of a wink in her voice. It disappeared when she grew serious. "It's not like I've never been ignored before, Dean. No one ever notices me. No one ever has. I've always been the girl in the corner waiting for the guy to ask her to dance."

After getting a peak at her adolescent years in those yearbooks, Dean could easily picture her sitting along the bleachers at a school dance, probably during her freshman year, hoping a guy would take her hand and lead her to the dance floor. No one had, and she most likely vowed to never put herself through that again.

"Anyway, I decided "what the hell"? It had been a shitty day, and couldn't possibly get that much worse, so I made myself say something to get his attention, and not all that much longer he asked to take me home," she concluded.

It was a nice story, but Sam really wasn't all that interested in how they'd picked each other up. He was more interested in what she had lied about that night, and he just wanted her to get to the point. "And?"

She leaned forward in her chair and looked at Sam right in the eyes, her expression never wavering a moment. "I neglected to mention the fact I was a virgin. I was too embarrassed and afraid it would turn Dean off."

Sam could only stare at Kate, stunned into momentary silence. He felt like a complete ass. No wonder Dean had told him to back off. He watched in horror as her eyes filled with tears, and even as they began to spill from her eyes she continued to speak, apologizing for that night.

"I know I should have said something. But I was so sick and tired of being alone, and I thought that I deserved to be close to someone, if only for a night." She turned her attention toward Dean, who was visibly clenching his jaw. He was as uncomfortable with her emotional outburst as his brother, but Kate felt she had to make amends. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I never thought there would be any consequences."

Her admission erased any misgivings Sam might have been feeling, and bursting with self-righteousness he exclaimed, "I told you she was a witch!"

Her tears came to a halt, and Kate wiped the last of them away from her face. She have them both a puzzled look. "You think I'm a witch?"

"Actually, Sam thinks you're a witch. I think you may have summoned a crossroads demon and sold your soul to protect Clearwater from the Apocalypse," Dean clarified.

Kate sat back in her chair, and went over his words over and over in her head, trying to make sense of them. "You think I called a demon, on purpose, and sold my immortal soul to protect a place that I've hated most of my life?"

"I think that's far more likely than you being a witch, but Sam's convinced it would take way more mojo than a crossroads demon has to insulate this town from all the crap that gone on in the past four years or so."

Kate gave her head a quick shake and said, "You know, I think I must have missed something because while I understand the words you're saying, they're not making any sense to me."

Deciding to humor her for a moment, Sam gave her a concrete example. "Remember all the stories about contaminated corn syrup last year? If you ate anything that was made with it, it made you extremely lethargic?"

"Sure, it was nationwide news. The recalls were huge," she said, remembering seeing a notice from one of the bakery's suppliers to check batch numbers on corn syrup. She and Jane had spent a late night going through their small inventory making sure it was safe.

"But you didn't have that problem here, did you?" Sam said accusingly.

"No, I didn't. Besides, what does that have to do with anything?" asked Kate, not quite understanding what Sam was trying to get at.

"Because the corn syrup was meant to turn humans into a docile food supply for some very nasty monsters that Dean and I had the pleasure of stopping just about a year ago. People disappeared all over the place, but no one from Clearwater."

"Sam, it's a small town in Iowa. There must be thousands of towns all over the country that were spared," was her very logical and well-reasoned reply.

"Fine then," Sam continued, "how about a couple of years before that? Remember the crazy weather, strange disease outbreaks, and all the dead people in Chicago?"

Kate did remember that. The eleven o'clock news had been pretty nuts for a couple of months. "The local bible-thumpers were all convinced it was the end-times. They kept telling me I should stay closed on Sundays so I could get right with the Lord." Instead she'd ignored them and stayed open. There had been a lot of scared people, but that hadn't stopped them from picking up a cherry-topped cheesecake to have with Sunday dinner.

Although he'd been keeping relatively quiet, allowing the banter to pass between her and Sam, Dean injected himself into the conversation. "It was the Apocalypse, Kate, and I'm not even exaggerating. It was the real deal, straight outta Revelations. Complete with angels and demons duking it out."

"Angels? Like with halos and wings?" she asked incredulously. However, it did make sense. If demons were real, it stood to reason that angels were real as well.

"They're dicks," came the unexpected reply in unison. It diffused the tension, and for a moment they all shared a laugh.

Dean tried to explain as best he could without any accusations the heart of their concern that something was very wrong in Clearwater. "It's just knowing what Sam and I know, to find no supernatural stuff happen in this town since you and I met seems really off. Throw in the dreams and it makes us both think you were somehow involved. Sammy here is just a bit more adamant that you're up to no good and are probably dangerous."

Kate was taken aback and couldn't think of a response to that. She just sat frozen in her chair as Sam continued, "We saw the yearbooks. We saw you started a Latin Club. That sounds like a really good cover for teenagers who want to mess around with black magic."

Sam's accusation sparked up memories of a time that Kate had long hoped would eventually fade, allowing her to forget the miserable four years she had endured at Oak Creek high school. Latin Club was one of the few good memories she had of that place. Latin had never been a popular class, and the students who took it beyond a second year were few and far between. It been a way for the six or so of them in her Latin 3 class that had wanted to learn more about Roman culture to do so, and it gave them a much needed extracurricular activity for their college applications. The idea of even starting a club had been her mom's idea.

"I hate to burst your bubble, Sam, but Latin Club was not a front for anything sinister. First off, if there had been any hint of fooling around with magic, even as a joke, the club would have been shut down. Mostly we sat around after school once a week doing double translations. For fun. It was geeky in the extreme."

"What's a double translation?" Dean asked. He'd never taken a language class in school, not even Latin which his Dad would have approved of. The little he did know had come from repeating the exorcism ritual over and over.

Sam answered before Kate could, and provided Dean with an explanation. "It's when you start with a text in one language, translate it into another, and then back to the original without looking at the original text while you do the back translation to see how accurate you were." He then rounded on Kate and asked her, "Did you guys start in Latin or in English?"

"We did both. I used to be pretty good at it," she admitted. "But I haven't done anything with Latin in years! I tested out of a language requirement for college, and haven't looked at it since."

"Which means she was probably REALLY good at it, Dean. You saw the pictures of her getting those foreign language awards in high school!"

"That was more than fifteen years ago, Sam! I could probably barely do a simple exercise now," she protested, knowing there was no way she could prove it to them. Sam would just say she was feigning ignorance. Sick of being treated like a criminal in her own home, she got up without a further word, scooping up the papers she'd assembled for them and headed to front door. She threw it open with a flourish, indicating it was time for both of them to leave.

Dean took the hint, and tugged the very indignant Sam to his feet so they could high tail it out of her living room. It wouldn't do either of them any good to stay any longer. Sam's accusations were built on very circumstantial evidence, and from what he could see with his own eyes, Kate was telling the truth. If she was, then something else was going on here, and they were going to have to dig deeper to get at the root of what was causing their shared dreams.

As they approached the door, Kate gave them both a stern look, her head held high. "If either of you wish to discuss this further, or perhaps apologize for accusing me without any sort of proof come by the bakery tomorrow after three." She handed the papers to Dean, and with icy coolness she added, "It was great seeing you again, Dean. Don't ever come back here."

She slammed the door behind them, but even as she did that, she could feel the onslaught of emotion coming. Unable to hold her tears back any longer, she retreated to her bedroom and collapsed, crying into the pillow that only a few hours ago Dean's head been resting upon.

* * *

Back at their motel room, Sam continued to rant about how guilty Kate looked, and Dean did his best to ignore him. He was seated at the small table in their room, trying to understand the financial records she'd given them. There was the possibility they'd been doctored in some way, but it would be hard for her to hide everything from them. There hadn't been enough time for that.

From her bank statements and tax returns he could see that working at the bakery wasn't exactly making her rich. She'd made more at Morton Vinyl where she'd been an accountant.

Running the bakery wasn't cheap, but her accounts were all up to date with her suppliers. She was also square with the bank, making her loan payment each month well before it was due.

"Hey Sam, I think I figured out how she was able to get that business loan. Come here." Sam got up slowly from the lumpy mattress, skeptical that Dean had found anything, but also eager to look at the information she provided.

"I've been looking through everything, and I noticed that while she has a loan payment for the business, she doesn't seem to make any other large payments to the bank. " He rifled through the papers a moment and pulled out a photocopy to show Sam. "And then there's this."

"This" was a copy of the deed to the house Kate lived in. She owned the whole place, lock, stock, and barrel. Seeing that, Sam sat down and looked through some of the papers that Dean hadn't gotten to yet, and in a few minutes he found the closing documents associated her purchase of the house.

Her mom had sold it to her for almost nothing, but the house had a pretty decent value on it. Using the house as her collateral, she'd been able to get a loan to start her business. It was all perfectly legitimate, and made total sense. A bank might have been nervous about granting her a business loan in the middle of a recession, but at worst, if she defaulted they were stuck with yet another house.

"That still doesn't explain how the hell Clearwater has managed to stay so very boring the past few years," Sam pointed out. She might not have used magic to enrich herself, but she still could have used it for other things. Including doing something to Dean, something he had not discounted.

As Dean was about to answer, he picked up the unmistakable sound of the fluttering of wings, and a moment later, a familiar trench-coated figure had joined them in the motel room.

"Sam, you are wrong about Kate. She is not a witch. Dean is not under a spell." Castiel's delivery was as deadpan and without affect as always.

Irritated at Cas, Dean complained, "And you couldn't have told us this earlier? Before she told me, I mean us, she never wants to see us again?" He faced Sam, and he could tell the gears were already turning in his head, trying to puzzle out what could be going on if Kate wasn't the cause.

"Now we're going to have a hard time getting her to talk to us at all, unless you're able to sweet talk her tomorrow at three," Sam suggested. If anyone could get her to come around it would de Dean.

Castiel took a seat on the end of one of the beds and observed the two brothers dispassionately, going back and forth between each other, determining what their next steps should be. Once they took a moment to breathe, he stated, "None of that is necessary. I am responsible for protecting Clearwater."

The Winchesters pivoted toward the bed, and gave him the same incredulous looks they had been giving him since they had first learned who he was. Cas found it odd that after all this time, he could still surprise them.

"And why would you have protected some small town in Iowa over every other place in the world?" asked Sam.

"Because she lives here," he answered, with his typical, measured response.

"So what's so special about her, Cas? She's just a girl I slept with, which you and I both know doesn't put her in exactly an exclusive club." He didn't like to admit that out loud in front of Sam, but it was true.

Cas fixed his blue eyes on Dean's hazel ones, and told him the reason why a phalanx of angels had been deployed to Clearwater on his orders. "I had this place protected for one reason. She is your soulmate, Dean Winchester."

* * *

**So how was it? Good, terrible, awesome? I await your reviews with bated breath!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi there, everyone! I apologize this chapter took so long to complete! I went away last weekend for Mother's Day which made it almost impossible to do any writing. I will do my best not to keep you all in suspense this long again. Thanks for your patience. Please read and review.**

* * *

"She's his what?" Sam exclaimed, attempting to come to grips with the fact that Kate really was who she appeared to be. She wasn't a dangerous witch. She hadn't made any sort of deal with a crossroads demon. She wasn't a threat to them at all. And to make it extra terrible, he may have irrevocably fucked things up for his big brother.

"His soul mate," Castiel repeated. "Are you having problems with your hearing, Sam?"

"I heard you, Cas. I was just hoping I heard you wrong," Sam explained. He looked over to his right, at Dean, trying to get a read on what he could possibly be thinking. He appeared to be taking the news in stride, which in most circumstances would be a good thing. However, in this case, it seemed unnatural. When someone hears their soul mate not only exists but is close at hand there should be some reaction other than silence.

"Dean, are you OK?" he asked, genuinely concerned for his brother's welfare.

"I'm fine, Sammy," he replied softly, still trying to puzzle out what Castiel actually meant by calling Kate his soul mate. How could he say that when he wasn't even in love with her? Liked her, sure; lusted after her, absolutely. But it wasn't anything more than that, right?

Sure, there was always that odd spark when he would touch her. When their fingers had intertwined when he'd led her to the couch for second there had been a flash of closeness that he'd never experienced before. And even from the moment he'd kissed her that first time, there had been a sense of connection. He'd always attributed it to the fact they were both essentially lonely people hungering for the kind of intimate contact that was only possible with another. Never anything more than that.

Needing to get off his feet, Dean stumbled over to the other bed, and sat down, hoping it would help him get his bearings. The moment his back made contact with the headboard he pitched forward a bit, and asked Cas, "How do you KNOW she's my soul mate?"

"It is something any angel can see when soul mates are together," he explained. "You also do not look the same after you have met."

Sam shook his head, asking the question he was sure Dean would have asked first, "But why, Cas? Why didn't you tell him? Isn't it kind of important?"

"More important than averting the Apocalypse? More important than defeating the leviathans?"Castiel responded. "I dispatched angels to ensure her safety until Dean's return. I did not think Dean would want her to come to any harm."

The angel's logic made a sort of sense. He would certainly be more focused on the big picture rather than any personal concerns of theirs.

"In addition, it did not seem prudent for me to reveal that Kate is Dean's soul mate given the nature of your enemies. It seemed like something they would want to exploit," he concluded.

Sam had to admit, that was a good reason to have kept both he and Dean in the dark. Knowing Dean, he would have wanted to rush off to protect her (even when it hadn't been necessary thanks to Cas) which would have put a big ol' target right on her back. Instead she's been able to live in relative anonymity and safety.

"Cas, I'm grateful that you and your angel buddies protected her, but you might have let me know before I shacked up with Lisa that I was settling down with the wrong woman," Dean observed. It would have spared him and Lisa a great deal of pain at the very least.

It had never occurred to Cas to say anything to Dean about Kate. It really wasn't his place. Humans were supposed to find their own path with as little angelic intervention as possible. It was what the Father wanted. Cas had broken the rules for the Winchesters many, many times, but that had always been when the fate of the Earth had been in the balance. He had relied on the fact that soul mates rarely stayed parted permanently to ensure that eventually Dean and Kate would find each other.

Castiel had been observing humanity for centuries and the nature of soul mates had fascinated him for a very long time. Very few humans recognized their soul mates immediately. And even when they did recognize the bond between them, it rarely resulted in a permanent romantic relationship. He thought that would change when humans began to marry for love rather than family concerns, but instead they remained as oblivious as ever. He always wondered why the Father never made it more obvious to his favored creations. He knew that they rarely responded to anything subtle.

"Do you regret being with Lisa?" Castiel asked, honestly wanting to know if he'd made a grave misjudgment by keeping what he knew a secret.

Dean had to take a moment to think about how to respond to Cas' relatively simple question. It had been a great experience to be "normal"; something he hadn't been since the moment his father had laid Sam in his arms and told him to keep him safe. He'd never been able to shake that burden, except those months where he thought Sam was far beyond his reach.

"No, I don't. But I did nearly get her and her son killed," he answered thoughtfully. "I know that any relationship I have with a woman puts her at risk. I might be more willing to take that risk for the woman who is supposed to be the love of my life."

"That is not what I said, Dean. Kate is your soul mate. Those are two very different things," said Cas very clearly. Why wasn't Dean listening to him?

Sam sank into one of the hard green plastic chairs at the faux wood table since none of the beds were currently available. He really wished that Cas would stop talking in riddles and just be straight-forward with them for once.

"Cas, if that's not how you define a soul mate, then what is it?" he asked out of pure frustration, not only for Dean but for himself.

"Your soul mate is the person who gives you the one thing you cannot give yourself in order to be whole," he replied. It was a lesson he had been taught a very long time ago.

"The missing piece," Sam breathed. It was something that Jess had told him what seemed a very long time ago when he'd asked her how she knew he was right guy to marry. Cas' admission only affirmed what he'd lost all those years ago. It seemed that just because two people were soul mates, it didn't guarantee any sort of happy ending.

"Missing piece, love of my life, whatever you want to call it," Dean said, "Isn't it possible that this is a one sided thing? Like maybe I'm her soul mate but she's not mine?" He was having a difficult time accepting that Kate was the person who could fill the gaping emptiness he often felt. If you asked him, there was a long list of things that he couldn't give himself that kept him from being whole.

"It does not work that way, Dean," Castiel confirmed. "You need each other, even though neither of you realizes it yet. Although she is far closer to accepting that than you are."

"I hate to ask this Cas, but how is she doing?" Dean implored, feeling slightly guilty about taking advantage of the fact that Cas could look in on her without being seen. But at the same time, he did want to know how she was. Kate was sensitive, and if he had to bet money, he would guess she was crying her eyes out thanks to them.

Cas flashed away for a moment, and then returned, confirming, "She is upset."

Given Cas' tendency for understatement, that meant she was probably a sobbing wreck. Great. He was going to have to come up with a hell of an apology tomorrow. But what was he supposed to say to her? Sorry my brother and I accused you of being a witch, but we didn't know that you're my soul mate? Somehow he was pretty sure that was not going to work on her.

And the idea that he needed her in some way was hard for him to swallow. He'd had spent the greater part of his existence cultivating the posture that he didn't need anyone. Sure, in the last few years he'd grudgingly come to understand that he needed Sammy, but Sammy was his only remaining family. He didn't doubt that Kate injected a normalcy into his life that was currently absent, but he had tried being normal and it hadn't worked. He wasn't ready to buy that the reason it hadn't was because he hadn't done it with Kate.

Hell, at this point the one thing he had come to accept was that he was never going to escape his life as a hunter.

"Sam, maybe we should just pack up and leave," he suggested, staring up at the swirls that decorated the motel room's ceiling. Maybe it would be better if he just took off and never came back. Kate might hate him for it, but being away from him and Sam was undoubtedly safer, and it would allow her to get back to the business of living her life faster. The longer they hung out here, the more likely she'd expect them, and by extension him, to stick around.

Sam was a bit taken aback. It was not how he expected Dean would respond. "Dean, are you sure you want to do that? You don't want to at least apologize first? You really want to treat her like a bad one night stand?"

"I don't want to, Sam. But it seems like way to go. We can just move on, and she'll get over it. At least I know she's safe here." It was a small, but vital consolation. Too many bad things had happened to people who had connections to him and Sam. Angels might not be his favorites, and he hated the idea of owing them anything, but they had done a bang up job protection Kate so far.

"Dean, I cannot guarantee the angels will remain after you leave. My instructions were for them to protect her until you returned. You have returned. They have fulfilled their mission," Cas informed the Winchesters.

"So just tell them they have to stay!" an exasperated Dean fired back. He didn't want to leave Kate emotionally devastated AND physically vulnerable.

"I no longer have the same authority I did when I ordered them here. That they remained here despite my change in circumstance is as you would say, "a big deal"," the angel explained. One of the consequences of his decision to play God had been a severe demotion among the angelic ranks. However, the hierarchy in Heaven was complex and highly nuanced, and angels had a weakness, if one could call it that, for following orders. It was likely that they had stayed because despite all that occurred, Castiel's order had been the last one they received, and at the time there had been few angels who could countermand it. "I could order them to stay, but there are any number of other angels whose orders would supersede mine."

"So what you're telling us, is that no matter what we do, once we leave Clearwater, Kate will no longer be protected," Sam said, quickly summarizing. "If that's the case, then you have to talk to her, Dean. You've got to let her know that her life may be different now. She's got to watch out for herself."

Dean nodded, acknowledging that it would be no longer be possible for them to just pick up and leave. He would not abandon Kate without letting her know the reason why things in Clearwater had been just so damn quiet over the last four years. She needed to know that she might need to learn how to protect herself. It would seem that tomorrow he had an appointment that he was going to have to keep.

* * *

When she'd been unable to cry any longer, Kate forced herself into the shower in an attempt to wash Dean Winchester out of her system. She scrubbed her skin, trying to erase all of the places he'd touched her, but she could not erase her memories of him. It hadn't taken long, but he had somehow gotten into her bloodstream and as such it would take time to get him out of her system.

Utterly spent from the emotional upheaval of the day, she slipped on her softest cotton nightie, flipped on her alarm clock, and fell into what she hoped would be a dreamless sleep. What seemed only minutes later, the blaring beep of her alarm rang out, forcing her out of bed once again.

Operating completely on auto-pilot, she went through the motions of her morning routine: washing her face, brushing her teeth, and getting dressed. She tied her hair back as she descended the stairs, doing her best not to not let her gaze dwell too long on anything in her living room. A few minutes later her coffee was ready, and she poured it into her travel mug so she could drink from it on the short ride to the bakery. Getting ready and out the door had taken all of twenty minutes.

She arrived on time, shortly before 4 AM, and parked her car in its usual spot behind the bakery. Jane was already waiting for her by the back door, sipping her own large coffee. Aside from the fact she was still smarting from the loss of Dean, it could have been a typical Monday morning.

With keys at the ready in her right hand, she approached the back door and was greeted by Jane.

"Morning, Kate!" came the friendly salutation and smile, but it quickly faded as Jane got a good look at her boss. Her eyes were swollen and red rimmed like she'd been crying for hours. Her shoulders were hunched slightly, closing herself in as though she felt the need to protect herself from something. Kate had not looked like this since she'd broken things off with Steve Morton. To be sure, Jane had been secretly thrilled when she'd dumped the sanctimonious jerk, but she had hated seeing how wounded Kate had been as a result.

Constitutionally incapable of tact at 4 AM, Jane proceeded forward with all the finesse of a bulldozer. "Kate, you look like shit. And not the "I spent all weekend screwing a hot guy" shit either. What the fuck happened?"

"I really, really don't want to talk about it," was all the response Kate could muster at the moment. It wasn't like she could get into the details with Jane anyway. The whole being accused of witchcraft thing was just not something she could discuss with her, even though she yearned to talk to someone. Maybe once the caffeine kicked in she'd find a way that wouldn't make it look like she'd lost her mind over the course of the weekend.

Jane's first instinct was to press Kate, but she backed off once she got a good look at her pained expression. She would just have to be there for her if she wanted to talk about it later. Something must have gone terribly wrong over the weekend. The last time she had seen her boss, Kate had been rushing out the door to make dinner for the guy and his brother. Jane had been so happy that Kate was finally doing something for herself, even if it was just a weekend fling. She had not considered Kate might end up getting her heart stomped on. She wished Dean Winchester was here so she could give him a piece of her mind.

After work on Saturday, Jane had called up Rayna to try to get some details about him, but the teenager's descriptive powers had left much to be desired. About the best she had been able to come up with was "brutally hot". That left way too much room for interpretation. And yet, as much as Jane liked her boss, even she found it hard to imagine a guy like that with her. Steve Morton was certainly attractive, but he was more handsome than hot.

Glancing over at Kate she asked, "You wanna shape the breads this morning?" It was typically her job to do that, but something told her Kate needed something to take her frustration out on. Bread dough was an ideal medium for that. Pastry required a light touch, and Kate just did not look up to it at the moment.

Kate simply nodded in thanks, and headed to the walk-in to remove the dough that had been proofing overnight. Jane went to work on the pies but she would occasionally peek out from under her lashes to see how Kate was doing. As she expected, Kate was focused on the task at hand; weighing and shaping the dough into the various loaves the bakery sold. Whatever had happened, it was bringing out her intensity, and she was creating some beautiful and intricate shapes as a result. Her boss often did her best work when she was having a personal crisis.

They worked in virtual silence for most of the morning, with Kate only speaking when she needed to. She let Jane know she really wasn't in the mindset to prepare some of her recipes, and asked her to take care of them. Instead, Kate took on the more manual work like shaping and baking cookies as well as filling and frosting cakes. Although she wasn't piping flowers or the other embellishments, Kate's task was just as difficult. Getting the icing spread evenly, and even more important, making sure it was level was an art unto itself. Only once it was set would she begin the more detailed work.

A couple of hours into their shifts, Mel Howard arrived to open the front of the store. She breezed in with a joke about the unseasonably cool weather they'd been having, but seeing that Kate was not in the mood for humor, she just grabbed the cash drawer and headed to the front to count it. She had heard the gossip that Kate's mysterious hookup had returned, and like most people she was anxious to get the juicy details about the weekend. Obviously that was NOT going to happen now. If she was lucky, Jane would fill her in later.

Jane and Kate worked steadily throughout the morning, and Jane noticed that as the day went on Kate started to thaw out a bit. She was still quieter than usual, but she stopped looking like if someone said the wrong thing she'd burst into tears. With their morning tasks complete, together they began to assemble the orders for the local restaurants that they supplied with breads and desserts.

As Kate was boxing one of her famous triple chocolate tortes, Jane decided to try to draw her out a little. "You feeling better?"

She wasn't really, but work was a welcome distraction. She could focus on something other than herself for a while. Work gave her a sense of accomplishment, reminding her that not everything she touched was a failure. And right now, being away from her house was a good thing. Everywhere she turned there were memories of Dean, and even though they had shared things she never wanted to forget, the way things had ended made her want to burn the place down so she could start fresh somewhere else. Of course, her more practical side won out over her emotional one.

"A little," she confided. "I want to hate him so much but I can't." It was perhaps the most infuriating thing about this. She should hate him. She ought to hate him. But she didn't. If she had any enmity toward anyone, it was Sam. And even there, Kate could sympathize with him. He was probably worried about his brother getting hurt either physically or emotionally. It was a logical product of the close bond she could see they had.

"He didn't just walk out on you, did he?" Jane asked, wondering if maybe he had just spent the night and then ditched her.

"No, I kicked him out," she admitted. Kate wondered if that had ever happened to Dean before. She couldn't imagine too many women would actively make the decision to get rid of him. As the expression went, Dean was the kind of guy who a woman would let eat crackers in bed. She'd deal with the crumbs later.

"What the hell did he do, Kate? He didn't hit you or anything, right?" Jane asked, her voice full of concern. If he had laid a hand on her boss there would be hell to pay, she'd make certain of that.

"Oh God, no!" she explained, wanting to make it clear that nothing like that had led to their separation. "And honestly, it really wasn't his fault. His brother Sam was being a jerk." Kate crossed her fingers and hoped that Jane wouldn't want more in the way of details. Otherwise she might have to actually discuss their wild theories about her.

"On Saturday night?" Jane said, not quite ready to let the conversation go. "You're telling me that asshole wasn't even grateful you made dinner? And he spoiled your reunion with Dean?" Privately, while Jane could see Kate being upset by that, she wasn't sure that would have been enough to cause the epic crying jag that Kate's red-rimmed eyes were evidence of.

As much as Kate would have liked the misunderstanding lie in order to get Jane off her back, she couldn't do that to a person she thought of as a friend. "No, this all happened last night. Everything went great on Saturday."

"Including Dean, I presume," Jane quipped, and seeing Kate flush slightly, it confirmed that her boss had indeed gotten lucky over the weekend. Funny that the guy she didn't sleep with turned out to be the one with personality issues. But then again, if he had let his brother walk all over Kate he couldn't be any sort of prize, even if he was super good looking. Jane was just glad Kate hadn't been willing to put up with that shit, and it would certainly explain why she was upset today.

"Jane, thanks for not pushing me to talk before I was ready. I appreciate it," Kate replied, thankful Jane had been willing to wait. Now that it was in the open, a weight had been lifted from her. Her mom had warned her that keeping her troubles to herself wasn't healthy, but she still had a hard time opening up to people.

The rest of day passed fairly uneventfully. Shortly after their break for lunch Kate and Jane began loading up the van so Kate could make the afternoon deliveries. Jane had to admit, Kate's scheme to sell to potential competitors had worked out brilliantly. In exchange for a name-check on their menus, the bakery would supply them with all their bread and dessert needs. For her part, Kate made the unusual concession to not expand her business into breakfast. It was the reason why they didn't make muffins, bagels, or coffee. But it had enabled her to sell her products to a couple of the local restaurants that had been concerned the bakery would cut into their breakfast business.

As was her routine, Kate started making deliveries to the closest places, leaving the places that were the farthest away for last. That way she would have an uninterrupted drive on the way back. She wasn't a car person by any means, but she did enjoy driving. It probably had something to with the fact it gave her the chance to blast her favorite songs and sing along without anybody around.

Deliveries complete, she cranked up the local top 40 station, and proceeded to dance along as best she could sitting down. She knew she looked rather ridiculous but it was of the few things at the moment that could make her forget some of her troubles and make her feel good. She was drumming along with the song on the steering wheel as she passed the sign that signaled she was back within the town limits of Clearwater.

Kate navigated the van back toward the bakery, and as she turned on to Western Avenue she spied a very familiar vehicle that could only belong to one person. The odds that there were two vintage black Chevy Impalas in Clearwater at the same time had to be pretty low. She checked her watch to note the time, and it was well before 3 PM. He had better have a damn good reason to show up well before she had told him to.

She pulled the van into the back alley, steeling herself for the confrontation that was sure to be coming. A part of her was glad that he had come. That meant he was going to apologize, which was a good thing. It would clear the air between them, and then maybe they could patch things up. She'd heard that make-up sex could be pretty spectacular. Then she could look back on this weekend only with fondness.

However there was another voice told her that it didn't matter what he said. Think about how he made you feel. He can only break your heart. Did she really want to have that happen again? Were the few hours of good sex worth the pain he was sure to inflict when he left?

With a heavy exhale, she shifted the vehicle into park, ready to face whatever lay beyond the dark gray door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Here's the next installment, everyone! It's a bit longer chapter than I intended, but I gotta follow my muse. I hope you guys enjoy it.**

* * *

Kate walked into the kitchen and immediately she noticed that Jane was waiting for her, leaning casually against the marble countertop they used to keep pastry dough cool as they worked with it.

"You have a visitor," Jane said with a smirk. "He's waiting out front. And now I totally understand why you fell so hard for this guy." Her assistant paused for a moment to collect all the thoughts that had been brewing since she had first laid eyes on him only a few minutes ago, and then continued.

"Just remember, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, don't let your heart do the thinking for you. If your head tells you he's sincere though, you hang onto him with everything you have." And Jane meant it. The man just on the other side of the double doors was just the sort of guy she would have picked out for Kate. He had that bad boy edge she desperately needed to inject some wildness into her incredibly staid life.

But he only belonged in her life if he truly cared about her. A man who looked like that could have a different woman every day of the week, and there was no way Kate could deal with that. She'd had her heart broken by someone she thought had cared deeply about her, and Jane didn't want to see her become a victim a second time.

"I told him to come by if he wanted to apologize, so that must be why he's here. I'm just going to hear him out, not necessarily forgive him," she replied. The hurt was still too fresh for her to contemplate forgiving him completely, even if a part of her wanted to do just that. It was that same little voice inside of her that had squealed with joy when she saw his big black car parked out front.

Kate rolled back the sleeves of her white chef's jacket, and pushed through the doors that divided the front of the store from the kitchen, and found him lurking over by the cake display case. His gaze was fixed intently on the variety of cakes inside, and in one hand he clutched a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie. For her part, Mel Howard was having a hard time keeping her eyes off him, even though there were a couple of other customers in the store. The older woman's eyes kept swinging back to him when she thought no one was looking.

Before approaching Dean, Kate turned to her employee and asked, "Has he been here long?" Her question snapped Mel out of her reverie, and she replied, "Not long. And as you can see he couldn't resist buying a cookie. When he asked for you, I just about fell over."

"Hard to believe he'd be here to see me, right," understanding her reaction to Dean completely. It wasn't his fault he was so damn good looking and she was so ordinary in comparison.

Mel turned to her boss, amazed that she still thought so little of herself. "Not at all, Kate. I'd just heard about this guy for years, and to finally see him in the flesh was a shock. I had almost convinced myself he was just a malicious rumor."

Although their voices were low, Dean caught snatches of Kate and the other lady's conversation about him. He pricked up his ears and concentrated hoping to hear more, but they had stopped chatting. Figuring that Kate was trying to figure out how to approach him after their less than happy good-bye, he decided to take matters into his own hands, and go over to her himself.

He peeled his eyes away from the scrumptious looking goodies, and ambled toward her, getting his first look at her in her work environment. She wore one of those funny white coats he'd seen on TV chefs, and her hair was tightly tied back. She didn't look like she was wearing any makeup, but she still looked pretty anyway. As he drew closer though, he saw the redness behind her glasses, a dead giveaway that last night had been rough for her. And he was the asshole whose fault it was. He still wasn't sure what he could possibly tell her that would convince her that he and Sam were both truly sorry for the epic mistake they had made.

Coming to a stop, Dean shoved his left hand into the front pockets of his jeans, hoping he looked more casual than he felt. Her body language screamed "stay away". Her arms were crossed defiantly across her chest, but he wasn't going to take off now.

"Kate, is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked gingerly, hoping she wouldn't turn and run back into the kitchen leaving him to look utterly ridiculous in front of her employee.

She just nodded from the other side of the counter, and turned back toward the doors and headed back through them. Dean took the hint and followed her.

As he entered the kitchen he caught site of woman who had come out not long after he arrived. She had pretty openly checked him out and then frowned. Dean was pretty sure it wasn't his looks that had put her off. She had seen that her boss was having a bad day and she knew or guessed he was the cause. He couldn't exactly blame her for hating his guts even if she didn't know the whole story. Even he was having problems accepting the whole story!

Kate made her way past the ovens and walk-in fridge, and turned to the right to where she had a small office. It was where she kept some files on the business and occasionally would work out recipes. There was no computer. The only piece of technology in the room was an ugly plastic phone that she used to take orders from their larger customers. She took her seat behind the old Steelcase desk that she had picked up at an auction when she had been purchasing used equipment for the bakery. Dean closed the door behind him and sat opposite her, his face impassive, not betraying any disappointment that she had chosen to sit there, and not in chair beside him.

"You wanted to talk in private, so talk," she said, her voice as hard and as cold as she could make it.

"I'm sorry, Kate. Sam and I made a terrible mistake yesterday. We know that now. "

"And how exactly do you "know" you made a mistake? Did you find something last night to prove I wasn't lying to either of you?" She questioned him with a nasty edge in her voice that she had hoped to keep under wraps. She didn't want Dean to know how much he had hurt her. He didn't deserve to know that.

"Not exactly," Dean replied, wondering just how much he should tell her about what Castiel had told them last night. "Remember what I told you about angels?"

"You told me they were dicks," she quickly returned, parroting what he told her the other night.

"They are, but there's one that isn't so bad. He told Sam and me that we were wrong about you. That we'd made big mistake," he offered, sounding as contrite as was possible for him. Dean didn't like to apologize to anyone, but if ever there was a time for him to suck it up, it was now.

"And of course, you believed him because he's an angel. Angels probably don't lie, right? But when I told you that I nothing to with what you accused me of, I was just trying to cover my tracks," she bit out, her eyes sharp and cutting. Her anger was evident, and Dean knew he deserved every bit of it.

"I believed him because he's my friend, Kate. And FYI, angels lie all the damn time," he stated. "But mostly, I believe him because I want to believe him. My instincts have always told me that you were a good person, no matter what the evidence showed. Believe that."

Kate considered her next words very carefully. "Dean, do you have any idea how much you and Sam hurt me? You especially. You turned on me and I don't usually let people get too close for just that reason." She didn't want to get into the details of her rather disastrous history with guys, but she had learned to keep them at arms-length ever since her freshman year in college. Her only exceptions had been Dean and Steve, and both of them had hurt her deeply.

"I'm sorry, and I can't make up for what Sam and I said. If you hate me now, that's your call. You're entitled to it. But there is more I have to tell you."

"And what else could you possibly have to say to me?" she asked, surprised he wanted to prolong their conversation. He was sincere, but she wasn't in a forgiving mood at the moment.

"Castiel, the angel I told you about, told me why Clearwater has stayed untouched from all the shit that's gone down since you and I met." Dean paused for a second, knowing how outlandish it was going to sound. "He ordered some angels to protect you until I came back."

"Why would he do that? I was just a one-night stand, Dean. I hardly think I was anyone special. Or is that something he does for all your women?" concluding with her bitter, self-hating question. He knew she wouldn't believe she was his soul mate, any more than she would believe him if he told her that their first night together had been special to him. And so had the second. And the great sex had little to do with it.

"He likes you," he replied cautiously, taking note of her very skeptical expression. "Not like that though. He thinks you're good for me, and he hoped I'd come back some day. In the meantime, knowing what he does about this world, he made sure you were protected."

Incredulous, Kate didn't even try to conceal her doubts. "Are you telling me I've had a bunch of angelic bodyguards following me around because your friend thought we made a good couple?"

Dean leaned back into his chair, and responded with complete seriousness, "Pretty much." It wasn't exactly the truth, but he technically wasn't lying to her either. She might not completely believe what he was telling her, but she hadn't kicked him to the curb either. That was progress.

"Kate, the thing you have to know is that those angels are not going to stick around much longer now that I'm back. Once they leave, you and everyone in this town are going to be vulnerable, and you should be prepared for that."

"What do you expect me to do, Dean? Demon hunting is your thing, not mine," she replied, indignant he would even suggest that. "I don't know the first thing about it, and I don't want to. I like my life as it is. I don't need the complications that I imagine go with your line of work."

"I don't expect you to do what I do. You'd just get yourself killed," he answered. "I just want to show you how to protect yourself, that's all. And if anything crazy happens, you need to call me or Sam and we'll get here as quick as we can."

"And what if you can't get here, Dean?" she mused out loud.

"I'll give you some numbers of other hunters you can call. Just let them know the Winchesters gave you their number," he replied matter-of-factly.

Kate considered his proposal; it certainly sounded reasonable. She did have her doubts though. For one, spending time alone with Dean was probably not a good idea. She was all too aware what tended to happen to them in those situations. She could always insist on Sam's presence for their training sessions. That would help keep the both of them in check.

"What exactly are we talking about here, Dean? And please be specific. I'm not sure I'm up to any of it," she replied honestly.

Trying to put his emotions aside, Dean did a mental and physical assessment of her in his head based on what he knew. It had taken guts for her to strike out on her own, so she didn't lack courage. However, she was basically a "nice" girl. He doubted she'd ever been in a fight in her life. She probably didn't even know how to use a gun. But he was not leaving town until he could be sure she knew the basics.

"Using salt to ward of spirits. The right way to draw a devil's trap. How to get rid of a ghost that won't leave people alone. And maybe if you're up to it, how to do an exorcism. You already know Latin, so it wouldn't be much of a stretch," he said, running through the list he and Sam had compiled back at the motel room. They had both agreed that anything beyond that required the services of a professional.

Eying him carefully, she asked, "Would it be just you showing me how to do these things, or will Sam be around?"

Dean had hoped to show her himself, with the exception of the exorcism stuff which Sam had always been better at. Yet her reluctance made perfect sense. "If you want Sam to be there he can," and then added, "But I'm the better shot."

Dean's response took her slightly aback. He expected her to be able to shoot something? She HATED guns. They had always made her super uncomfortable. Steve had wanted her to get one for protection not long after they had started dating. At the time she had refused, telling him that was the reason she carried insurance. If someone wanted to rob her bakery, she would just hand over the money. It wasn't a big deal.

"Dean, I don't do guns. They bother me. A lot."

He had expected her response, and he explained, "Believe me, sweetheart, I get what you're saying. But if a nasty poltergeist or demon is on your tail, a blast of rock salt can save your skin. You gotta be ready for that." He leaned toward her and teased, "You aren't afraid are you? It will only take a couple sessions at the local range."

God, he was cute when he did that! Men had never really teased her before, probably because they didn't think she would appreciate it. And with most guys, that was true. But when Dean did it, it inexplicably made her hot.

"Fine. But I'm not buying a gun," she stated firmly.

"Not a problem," he replied. "Sam and I can give you one of our spare shotguns. We have plenty."

"Where the hell did they keep them?" Kate wondered to herself. And then it dawned on her: the Impala. That thing practically had a bottomless trunk. They probably kept it packed with weapons.

"When do you propose we start? I do have a business to run." She was not about to shirk her responsibilities just to spend time with Dean, no matter how appealing that might be.

"You could meet me and Sam at a range after you get off work today. If you do well, we can move onto other stuff tomorrow," he proposed. Dean did his best to hide now much he was looking forward to teaching her how to handle a gun. It was a good excuse to get close to her again.

Until Dean had mentioned the presence of Sam, Kate had been ready to refuse him. But hearing Sam would be there changed her mind. Hopefully, she would be a quick learner and they would be able to move on to the more academic stuff that would not require close contact.

Kate gave him the name of a well-known local gun shop that also had its own range, and they swiftly made plans to meet in a couple of hours. Their business concluded, Kate rose from her position behind the desk and walked to the office door, opening it for Dean. Their gazes lingered on each other a moment longer than was probably appropriate, but he walked out the door without making a move to kiss her. She was grateful Dean was able to see their relationship as one of professional courtesy rather than romantic. If he could resist his urges, then damn it, so could she!

She followed him out of the kitchen, bidding him good-bye, and promising to be on time later. He gave her a warm smile that wrenched her heart a bit just as he departed. She retreated back into the kitchen, and no sooner had she crossed the threshold, Jane was waiting for her.

"So how did it go? You guys all made up?" she inquired, her face expectant and hopeful.

"We're meeting at Hoffman's after work," Kate said as though it was the most normal thing in the world for her to do after work.

"That's his idea of a hot date?" Maybe this Dean guy wasn't such a catch after all. But then again, it was a set up that did have possibilities. Frankly, she amazed Kate agreed to hang out with him at a place like that.

"He doesn't want to leave town without me knowing how to protect myself. I'm humoring him," Kate explained. "Besides, Sam will be there."

Jane rolled her eyes, and gave her boss a taste of her unvarnished tact. "Do you think his brother will keep him from putting the moves on you, Kate? I saw how you two looked at each other. You may be pissed at him, but you still want him. Bad. And he wants you right back." The two of them were pretty clearly deep in the throes of lust. She nearly had to fan herself just looking at them, and wasn't because of the heat from the ovens.

"It will be fine, Jane. I can handle myself around him just fine," she replied, emphasizing the word "fine" like it would somehow give her the strength she needed.

"You keep telling yourself that, girl," came her employee's knowing reply.

* * *

Sam reluctantly followed his brother into the shooting range, once again wishing he didn't have to play the third wheel. And this time it wasn't just because it was always weird hanging around women Dean was in to. This time there was the extra added awkwardness that came from him making baseless accusations. The only reason he was here was because Dean explained that Kate wouldn't stick around if he wasn't there.

They arrived well before 4PM, figuring they might as well get some pistol shooting in before Kate arrived. As Dean liked to point out, Sam could always use the extra practice. He wasn't a bad shot, he just wasn't as good as Dean. If Dean had been able to live any sort of normal life as a kid, Sam often imagined that Dean would have ended up a cop. He might not ever tell it to his face for fear of being accused of causing a "chick flick moment", but Sam knew his brother was a good man who wanted to help people.

He took aim at the paper target in front of him, concentrating on getting a tight grouping in the center mass. He emptied the ten shot clip of the 9 millimeter, the bangs muted by the ear protection the range insisted on. When he was finished, he reeled in the target to check how he did. All ten had hit their mark.

Looking over toward this brother, Sam observed that he was drilling his target and smoothly reloading one seven round clip after another. He didn't even bother to check his target to see how he was doing. But then again, he probably didn't need to, and when it came down to it, Dean didn't really care that much about his accuracy at the moment.

Dean was in his own zone, using his favorite Colt .45 to mitigate all the frustrations that his encounter with Kate had brought him. Perhaps the only bright spot, depending on how he looked at it, was that last night had been the first night in weeks that he had not dreamed of her. He couldn't be sure, but it was his guess that since they'd slept together the dreams would go away for a while. Castiel hadn't said anything about it, but Dean already surmised the dreams were a byproduct of their status as supposed soul mates.

A couple minutes before 4 PM, Dean took a break and wandered outside the range to wait for Kate to arrive. He figured she might feel weird walking into this place by herself. It was so totally NOT her scene. It would be comical if the reason she was here wasn't so serious. She pulled up in her cute little red car a few minutes later still dressed in her work clothes. He wasn't sure the chef's jacket was such a good choice for target shooting, but the checked pants and sneakers were fine.

"You don't happen to have anything on under that, do you?" he asked once she got within about six feet of him.

Kate looked down, having forgotten that she was still in her work attire. She was so used to it, she barely thought of it as anything different. But Dean was right, this was probably not a good choice for her first lesson. "Give me a sec, Dean. I'll be right back," she called to him as she turned back around toward her car as she hastily unbuttoned her coat, revealing the tank top she usually wore underneath. As she tossed it back into the car, she noted this probably wasn't much better, but it wasn't like she had any other options at the moment.

Dean's first thought on seeing Kate emerge from her car was that he wanted nothing more than to peel that tight blue tank top off her, followed closely by his second one which was that she was gonna have a hell of a sore shoulder tomorrow without any protection from the kick of the shotgun.

"Better?" she asked, holding herself out for his inspection, even doing a little twirl for him. His lower brain certainly appreciated it, which was not exactly a good thing. As much as he was looking forward to this, he did legitimately want to teach her how to use a weapon properly. He didn't want her to be defenseless.

He gave her a gruff, "Yeah, you're fine," and led her into the range where she was required to show her ID and a credit card before they let her check anything out. The man behind the steel cage seemed to recognize her, and did a double take when she slid her driver's license through the slot for his inspection.

"Kate Hager? You're the lady with the bakery, right? It's about time you showed up here. Can't be too careful these days," he said and then tipping his head toward Dean he added, "Your boyfriend giving you a lesson?"

Dean didn't miss her rolling her eyes at the man's remark, and quickly interjected, "She wants a 12-guage pump action."

The man gave him a surprised look that silently indicated he thought it was way too much gun for a novice, but when Dean gave him his patented steely stare, and then man retreated to fetch it. He returned with a gleaming Remington that was obviously well-maintained. He also handed over a box of ammunition and a pad for Kate's shoulder. Dean gave the man a curt "thanks" knowing that he didn't have to include the pad, but did so anyway.

Kate got her first lesson when Dean handed her the shotgun and she quickly realized how heavy one was. Since her only experience with guns had been from TV and the movies she hadn't been quite prepared for the weight. The way actors threw them around she always figured they were pretty light. Yet another Hollywood illusion shattered.

At least she was used to dragging around heavy bags of flour so she quickly adjusted to it, keeping barrel pointed toward the floor even though it was unloaded. That much she did know.

She followed Dean to the range, and spied Sam taking aim at a target downrange, seemingly oblivious to them. The ear protection must have cancelled out the sound of their movements as well. Dean waited until Sam finished, and then tapped him on the shoulder. Sam removed the things over his ears, and set them down, giving her a very wary, "Hey there, Kate. Nice to see you," as he did so.

"Nice to see you too, Sam," she replied automatically, even though she didn't exactly mean it.

"I know Dean told you I was sorry, but need to tell you myself. I really screwed up, and you should know it was all me. I was the one who dragged Dean into it, practically kicking and screaming," he explained, and then continued despite Dean's displeased expression. "If I wasn't his brother, he would have never gone along with what we did. Don't hold my fuck up against him."

His earnest plea and puppy-dog eyes went a long way to convincing her that this wasn't any sort of set up. "Thanks, Sam," she said, adding, "I'd like to shake on it, but my hands are kind of full at the moment." That drew a smile from the more serious brother, and he promised, "After Dean gives you your lesson. He's a good teacher."

Dean took her over to the cubicle next to Sam's and first began by explaining how the shotgun worked and what the various parts of the mechanism did. He was very patient and went slowly, even though Kate could tell he probably could disassemble and reload the thing in his sleep. As he spoke, keeping his voice low, he guided her hands, showing her how to load the gun, pump it, and then bring it up to her shoulder to fire. He counseled her how to use the sites and then to flip the safety off and squeeze the trigger slowly once she had the target where she wanted it.

They went through the process several times, without any ammunition just so she could get used to the process, and much sooner than she thought, Kate found herself starting to get comfortable. Sam had not lied; Dean was a very good teacher. His whole presence was incredibly reassuring, and even when she did screw up he didn't lose his temper.

"OK, Kate, let's try it again, this time for real," he said, passing her the box of ammo so she could load the shells herself. Dean knew from teaching Sam years ago the best way for her to learn was for her to do as much of this as possible herself. Besides, he was pretty sure she would resent the hell out of him treating her like a girl.

He watched her load the gun, keeping his eyes on her hands the entire time to make sure she was doing everything correctly. Only once that was done, he slipped the ear protection on, with a final whisper to prepare herself for the kick. She gave him a glare, and got into position, just like he showed her, and she slid the pump forward, chambering the round. She took aim and fired, the gun springing up because she wasn't used to it.

"Holy crap, that _hurt_," she said, scowling after she ejected the slug with another pump. She'd missed the target by a good margin, which she knew was to be expected, but it still irked her. She really hated failing at anything, even the first time. She was also definitely going to be bruised tomorrow even though the pad had blunted some of the impact.

Dean got behind her, adjusting her stance slightly, his hands against her hips in an all too familiar position. She closed her eyes, soaking in the moment.

"Try again," he commanded firmly, and she did so, this time more prepared for the action of the shotgun. She still let it come up on her, but not nearly as much this time; and there was the added bonus of hitting the target.

For the next half hour, Dean made her fire and load the gun over and over, and Dean took pride in the fact she improved pretty steadily. By the end of their session, she was doing it fairly naturally and seemed excited by the progress she had made. Her type A personality craved success, and soon she kept at it without any prompting, trying improve her speed as well as her accuracy.

When he saw her arms starting to wobble from fatigue, he gently tapped her shoulder, startling her.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, her eyes wide and questioning.

"You need to take a break, Kate. Your arms are tired," he said, easing the weapon away from her.

"No they aren't," she insisted, trying to snatch it back from him, but he was far stronger and when she found she could barely pull it back, it hit her how exhausted her limbs were. She thought her arms were in pretty good shape because of her work, but the lesson had been quite a workout. Maybe if she did this regularly she would get those toned arms she always wanted.

Kate stepped back, making room for Dean as he took aim himself. She quickly became mesmerized by his precise movements, never wasting any energy. Now she understood why so many women found guys in law enforcement hot. There really was something about a man who knew how to use a weapon that was rather arousing. It all came as more than a bit of a shock to her.

Her higher brain told her it was a natural reaction, built on thousands of years of her female ancestors choosing a mate based on his ability to protect her and future children. Only knowing that did not satisfy her more primitive desires. She closed her eyes, recalling the tears she had shed because of him, and that he couldn't possibly stick around much longer.

It really wasn't helping.

It was starting to occur to her that if Dean wanted her again, she wasn't going to be able to refuse him. Jane was right. She wanted Dean bad; as badly as the night they had met. Two nights with him had not been enough to get him out of her system, and she was starting to doubt if she would ever be able to. Something about Dean just called to her, and it was more than just an animal attraction. She didn't want to dwell on that too much because that was the path that led to heartbreak.

She ought to just enjoy the next few days, and hope that he stayed interested in her. At least she'd have a really good story to tell the other old ladies when it was time to check in to the nursing home.

By now, he had relinquished the shotgun for a handgun, and the ease with which he held and aimed it, spoke of what had to be years of experience. There was no doubt in her mind that Dean and Sam's job was definitely of the dangerous variety. They wouldn't be as good as they were with weapons otherwise. It was an instantly sobering thought.

Kate had intellectually understood Dean had faced death; there was no way to miss it from the scars he bore. She was only beginning to comprehend the risks of his job, one he seemingly did voluntarily, and for what had to be little, if any pay. Why in God's name did he do this to himself? Why hadn't he settled down years ago? What was stopping him?

And God help her, she was yearning to get the answers to those questions, even though Kate knew she wasn't going to like the answers.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry this has been so long coming! This part of the story is proving a bit harder to write than I expected. I hope you enjoy it, and I'm going to really try to get another part out this weekend to make up for the long time between postings.**

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Kate looked down at her watch, and seeing it had passed 5 PM, she realized she should probably be thinking about heading home if she was going to follow her usual routine. She didn't want to disturb Dean who didn't seem the least bit tired. A full day's work followed by the shotgun lesson had left her feeling rather worn out, especially since she hadn't slept that well the night before. She was going to be hard pressed to even find the energy to cook herself dinner. She hated to do it, but right now fast food was sounding really good. Even if all the calories would go right to her hips.

Sam had wrapped things up, and she watched as he disassembled his weapon and cleaned it. She didn't like the idea of slipping away without saying good-bye to Dean, but at the very least she could say good-bye to Sam and ask him to pass a message to his brother. Kate approached him cautiously, her hands thrust deep within the pockets of her pants. His ear protection was lying on the small counter in front of him, so she knew he would be able to hear her.

"Hey Sam, I really need to get going. Can you tell Dean "thanks" from me? If he thinks I need another lesson, I can meet you guys here tomorrow. He should just give me a call tomorrow while I'm at work."

Sam whipped around to face Kate who looked like she was ready to bolt. Her shorter strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail, and framed her face with curls. He imagined she probably wanted nothing more than dinner and a hot shower, and here his brother was, rather rudely ignoring her.

"Kate, don't you go anywhere," he said, indicating she shouldn't run off, and he decided to take the risk of interrupting Dean.

He sauntered over softly, but any noise he made was easily muffled by the sounds of gunfire. Just as Dean was about to pop in another clip, Sam moved the protection covering his left ear, and shouted, "Dean, your girlfriend's about to leave," knowing his use of the word "girlfriend" would rankle his bother. Sam didn't often get the chance to screw with Dean, so when he got his opportunities, he took them.

Dean shot his brother a dirty look, but truthfully he was glad for interruption. He'd simply lost track of the time, and didn't want Kate to take off without at least making plans for tomorrow. He quickly removed the clip from his weapon and checked the chamber to make sure it was clear before handing it to Sam to take care of.

"Kate, I'm sorry I got kinda caught up in things," he apologized.

"Yeah, I noticed," she quickly replied. "But it's OK really. Watching you was a good thing. I learned a lot just doing that."

"You did good, Kate. Especially for newbie," he praised her, knowing that would keep her motivated. A quick check of his watch told him it wasn't that late. He was a bit surprised she had to run off. "Do you have to go?"

Kate could tell his query was sincere; clearly he had no idea when her day had started. "Dean, it's been a long day. I got to work at 4 AM, and I worked nearly twelve hours, and then I came here. Right now I just want dinner, a hot shower, and my bed. Preferably in that order," she concluded with a small smile.

He could see her point. He had not realized the hours that she put in at the bakery, and he chided himself for being so callous. He had been hoping that after their lesson they could hang out a bit. Dean was more than aware that he still had some apologizing to do.

"Hey, why don't we just grab something to eat together?" he suggested.

Kate tried to coolly assess what Dean had just said. It wasn't clear to her if he meant for her to join the Winchesters or if he meant just the two of them. "Dean, did you just ask me on a date?" she wondered aloud, astounded he'd even make the suggestion. She didn't know him that well, but she knew him well enough to know that Dean was not the kind of guy who went on dates. At least not conventional ones.

"I guess," he replied. "But if it will make you feel better I'll let you pay."

"I'll agree to that," Kate answered calmly, all the while her heart was hammering. She really wished she had more experience with this sort of thing because just she didn't want to come across that she was too eager or even desperate. "But I get to pick the place," she counteroffered.

"Done," he agreed, his eyes smiling even if he didn't dare do so with his lips.

Sam tried to watch their whole interaction like he was a disinterested observer. The two of them were like two animals circling each other trying to take each other's measure before pouncing. The ironic thing was that BOTH of them wanted to be the one pounced on, except neither would admit that. They had probably forgotten that he was in the same room as them. He couldn't resist interjecting, "So does this mean I get the Impala again for the night?"

His brother's question made Dean realize that perhaps he had not thought his plan through as well as he thought he had. He didn't want to give his baby up again, especially considering the make-out opportunities it afforded. But he also couldn't leave Sam stranded without a ride, and he doubted Kate would hand her keys to a guy she barely knew. And if he told Sam he could have the car for the night, it implied that he expected to spend the night. At this point, that was more than a little bit presumptuous.

Reluctantly, Dean replied, "I'll call you if I need a ride later, Sam. Just don't wander too far from your phone."

"Sure, Dean," Sam answered nodding that he understood, although he was pretty certain his phone would stay silent that night. He bid Kate a quick good-bye, and told her he trusted her to not take Dean to a place he'd get food poisoning, which earned him a laugh. From her response it seemed that she was willing to forgive them both. If she and Dean had any chance of a future together, Sam had a feeling that her ability forgive would be sorely tested. He drove off, hoping for the best for the two of them.

The moment Dean took a seat in the front seat on the passenger's side of the car, Kate was forced to suppress a giggle because it was immediately apparent how out of his element he was. He looked around her car as though he almost expected it to bite him. She turned the key, and immediately the car began to beep, indicating something was wrong. She looked over at Dean, who was looking a bit shell shocked that he was actually sitting in a compact car, and realized the reason for the noise. He'd forgotten his seat belt.

"Buckle up, Dean or my car won't shut up," she informed him, and he quickly grabbed the belt and strapped himself in. The whining mercifully ceased to both their intense reliefs.

"Sorry about that," she apologized with a slight shrug. "It's a safety thing." Out of habit, she reached over to turn on the radio, and immediately the sound of electronic dance music filled the car. She had left the radio tuned to her favorite top 40 station, and Dean looked like he could not believe what he was hearing.

He reached for dial, only to have his hand slapped away.

"Driver picks the music," Kate said. "I thought everyone knew that."

Chagrined, he pulled his hand back and leaned back into the seat, adjusting it to his liking. At least her car had plenty of leg room in the front. He never would have thought it to look at it though. Sam had to be laughing his ass off knowing that he was stuck in a car that embodied almost everything he hated about newer cars. The only way it could be worse was if it was a Volkswagen Bug.

"You like this stuff?" he asked, gesturing towards the radio.

"Yeah, it's fun to listen to."

"But what about the other night? I thought you liked GOOD music," he said with a slight sneer.

Kate turned toward Dean as she prepared to back out. Looking past him to get a better view behind her she replied with mock sincerity, "I didn't know it was impossible to like both. I'll have to take that under advisement."

There was no way he could possibly win this argument, so he resolved to just put up with it until they got where she was taking them. As they pulled out of the parking lot, she took pity on him and told him he could change the station to whatever he liked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him brighten up right away, and he soon found what he was looking for. The iconic groove of Cream's "Sunshine of Your Love" poured through the speakers.

"Now, THAT's music!" Dean exclaimed, unable to resist air drumming along. Dean seemed so darned happy, Kate couldn't resist smiling as well. It was like he didn't have a care in the world. She was well aware that was far from the case, but it was good to see him let his metaphorical hair down.

As the song drew to a close, Dean inquired, "So where are we headed?"

"You'll see," came Kate's enigmatic reply, keeping her eyes steadily focused on the road in front of her. If she looked at him, it might be impossible to keep him in suspense.

Their destination wasn't far off, and within a few minutes they were pulling into a familiar looking parking lot. It looked a bit different in the daylight, the red neon sign barely visible. The cars were also few and far between. Dean didn't even think this place served food.

Seeing his confused expression, Kate chimed in, "Dean, things can change in nearly five years. I promise the food's good. And I can guarantee they have good desserts."

With that assurance, Dean felt much better, but it did feel weird to be back at Lucky's. From the moment they entered the place, Dean noted the changes. The décor had been updated, but it was still rustic. The pool tables were now in the back instead of out front, leaving space for the tables. The bar was in the same place though, and it looked like the same guy was behind it.

He looked up from the glasses he was cleaning, and gave Kate a friendly wave. She waved right back, and the man came out from behind the bar to greet them.

"Hey there, Kate. It's been too long since you've been here for something other than business," he said warmly to her before he trained his eyes on Dean. The man peered at him from over his half-spectacles, and soon enough Dean saw his eyes spark with memory. He turned back toward Kate and continued, "So he finally came back."

"Henry, leave the poor guy alone," she replied. "His name is Dean Winchester, and we're here for dinner," she concluded firmly, almost daring the bartender to say something. He grumbled a bit under his breath, but he showed them to a table nonetheless, and seemingly evaporated just as quickly, returning to his post behind the bar.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear that guy was your dad," said Dean, keeping his voice low so he couldn't overhear them.

"Henry?" she replied, wrinkling her brow and quirking the corners of her mouth. "He's just been here forever, and knows pretty much everyone in town at this point. He sees me all the time making deliveries. He's just being overly concerned for my welfare."

"Any reason why he'd do that?" Dean asked seriously. When he saw Kate blanch slightly, it was obvious there was a story there, but he wasn't going to push it.

Kate really did not want to have a conversation about this right now. This supposed to be a date, and she did not want to spend it going over things she'd rather keep in the past. She tried to make light of it, saying that he didn't want anything to happen to his dessert supplier, but she was pretty sure Dean did not buy that explanation.

Their waitress materialized soon enough and dropped off menus and took their drink orders. She got her usual, seltzer with lemon, and Dean got a beer. "No martini?" he kidded her.

"Not on a school night, Dean," she returned, starting to relax again. It was surprisingly easy to do with Dean, which was not how she usually felt around men. Most of her first dates had actually been pretty disastrous, with the guys usually making it clear they didn't find her attractive and that there would be no second date.

There wasn't much in the way of conversation as they both checked out the menu. Dean briefly asked what was good, and she had given the very infuriating reply of "everything". But other than that the two of them pondered the menus in silence. Since it was still early and a Monday night, they virtually had the place to themselves aside from a couple of regulars hunkered over by the bar. Their beverages arrived quickly and efficiently, and then the waitress posed the dreaded question: what did they want?

As a guy, Dean had no idea how fraught with panic that question could make a woman on a date. She knew he probably couldn't care less what she ate, but women always imagined that men analyzed their choices. The familiar rules echoed in her head: no pasta with red sauce, nothing with too much garlic, nothing too fattening. She didn't want to order a salad either; it was such a typical "girly" choice, and it practically screamed "I'm watching my weight".

To stall for time, Kate said, "You can go first," her eyes still wracking the menu like she had no idea what to order.

Dean saw Kate's wrinkled brow and wondered why the hell she was having such a hard time making a choice. After all, she had picked the place! Going with his usual, he ordered a bacon cheeseburger with fries. That was usually always a safe thing to order.

Kate's ears pricked up when she heard Dean's order. It actually sounded really delicious, and she knew that Lucky's did make a great burger. She just rarely indulged in one. In fact she couldn't remember the last time she'd had one.

"I'll have the same," she stated. And if she was going to have a burger, she might as well really indulge. "But I'd like onion rings instead of fries. Is that OK?" she asked.

The waitress nodded, indicating it wasn't an issue, and then she took off for the kitchen to put the order in, leaving the couple alone.

Now came the hard part. Making cute conversation had never been easy for Kate, and she didn't think Dean would be one to engage in it anyway. Although they had been as physically close as two people could get, she really knew quite little about him. She wanted to know more, but also she wanted to respect his privacy. There were certainly areas of her personal life she considered off limits.

She was relieved when Dean got the ball rolling. "So how exactly did you end up opening a bakery? It's like your life just took a big left turn from where it was going," he asked, very much interested in what she had to say for herself. From what he'd seen, he would have thought she would have wanted to get as far away from this place as possible.

"Yeah, you could say that. If you'd asked me at the end of high school what I expected to be doing with my life in my thirties, this certainly wasn't it," she reflected. "I was supposed to be making big money on the commodities exchange in Chicago or maybe even on Wall Street in New York. And yet here I am, a baker, with very little in the way of regrets."

It wasn't hard to picture her with shorter, more stylish haircut, rocking a power suit. "So what the hell happened?"

Kate thought about it for a second, and simply stated, "Life happened." Dean clearly was looking for more of an explanation than that so she went on, "I needed a summer job after my first year of college, and my mom told me that Morton Vinyl was looking for interns. Normally they hired kids in their junior of senior years, but she thought I might have a shot because I was pretty well known around town for being super brainy."

She went on, telling him how thrilled she had been at landing the job for the summer. It turned out to be great learning experience, and she came back the next couple of years because she had genuinely liked it. During her final year in college, she'd gotten job offers from a few places including Morton Vinyl. In the end, she picked Morton's because her mom reminded her that she could save a lot of money by living at home. It had been a good, safe choice, and she figured after a couple of years she could go back to school to get a master's degree in finance or go somewhere else.

As it turned out, she had grown to embrace her very safe, and in many ways unchallenging job, feeling it was all she deserved. When she saw Dean's perplexed look, she explained, "I gained a lot of weight in college, Dean. I was never thin to begin with, and I was really socially awkward. People thought I was a hick, and weren't afraid to call me that to my face. After a while, I just stopped trying to fit in and stayed in my dorm room eating Cheez-Its."

Genuinely embarrassed about how she looked, she hadn't wanted to venture away from home; assuming she'd be judged harshly based on her appearance. At least in Clearwater, she'd grown up with the people, and she had never been popular here to begin with. Things started to change though, about a year or so before she met Dean. Sick of being alone, and figuring the clock was ticking if she was ever going to get a boyfriend, she started watching what she ate, and working out a bit. It wasn't anything crazy, but the extra pounds from college came off, along with a bit extra, making her smaller than she'd been since middle school.

"That was when I discovered how much living in a small town really sucks," she said, frowning at the memory. "People pretty much had a set picture of me, so it didn't really matter I looked different. I would always be the smart chubby chick who everyone thought was a huge nerd in high school. Throw in my mom being the town librarian, and I pretty much had no shot at meeting anyone."

Dean could see how that could happen. He'd grown up in a lot of small towns, and he and Sam had always been labeled wherever they had gone. He had been the bad kid who always got into trouble while Sam had been the nerdy new kid. On some level he could understand it, after all he still had a hard time treating Sam like he was a grown man who could take care of himself. But Kate was an objectively attractive woman, how could they be so blind? It was their loss.

"How'd you get into baking though? That's where I really get lost. I can totally picture you behind a desk ordering people around, but baking cookies pretty much 180 degrees from that."

"I can see how that doesn't make much sense. But once again, it all goes back to my mom," she admitted.

"She must have been a good baker," Dean quite understandably assumed, only to be greeted by Kate's laughter.

"Far from it," she said with a smile. "My mom HATED to bake. When she did it, it was always using a mix. I knew kids at school whose moms all made stuff from scratch, and I asked my mom why she didn't." Looking back on it, Kate was lucky her mom hadn't hit the roof. Her mom worked hard enough as it was to provide for them. The last thing she needed to do in her spare time was to make cupcakes. "She told me she didn't like how fussy it was, but if I wanted to try it she would bring me a cookbook back from the library. Things just took off from there."

The next day Kate had copied out recipes that looked interesting, and one by one would try them out. Like any beginner, she had her share of disasters, but she learned from them, and didn't let them frustrate her. She quickly learned how to tell a good recipe from a bad one, and slowly but surely she began to master basic baking skills. When she successfully made a traditional buttercream frosting from scratch, she had been amazed at how much tastier it was from what up until then she thought buttercream frosting tasted like. It completely reversed her opinion of frosting overnight.

She started bringing in her treats to school when her mom insisted that the two of them couldn't eat everything she was making. She contributed to bake sales, and sometimes she just brought things into homeroom. Kids may not have wanted to be her friend or even hang out with her, but they were more than happy to scarf down free goodies. Her mom realized Kate's hobby wasn't going anywhere, and eventually she bought her a Kitchen-Aid mixer as a birthday gift, and to this day she considered it her favorite present.

"So you learned how to bake just from cookbooks?" replied a slightly astonished Dean. "No lessons or anything?"

"I watched cooking shows too," Kate admitted. "But mostly I learned from doing. I'm just lucky I'm good at something I love."

There was a time when Dean could have said the same thing about being a hunter. There was no doubt he was good at his job. However, he'd ceased to love it long ago. Sure, there were time he found some measure of pride in stopping the Apocalypse and the leviathans, but he'd lost so much in the process. He had not truly gotten any satisfaction from being a hunter since Sam had died in his arms after being stabbed in the back. That moment had changed everything for him, and his life had largely been a downward spiral from there with few moments of peace or happiness to speak of.

Before he could engage Kate in conversation again, their food arrived, and it smelled fantastic. The waitress was well prepared, bringing along ketchup, and what looked like a little cup of mayonnaise, which she placed next to Kate's plate.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" she gushed, thrilled that she had not even had to ask for it. Hopefully Dean would not be too weirded out that she liked ketchup AND mayo on her burger.

"No problem," the young woman replied, and then she left them to their meals.

Dean noted that Kate cut her burger in two to make eating it slightly less messy; but he was glad to see she took a big first bite. She quickly followed that up with a bite of one of the onion rings. She clearly was not the kind of woman who picked at her food. But for some reason, she seemed very interested in how he was eating his fries.

"You want one?" he offered, figuring that was what she wanted.

Oh Christ, he had caught her staring at him again! It had always been one of her personal pet peeves when guys would squeeze ketchup all over their fries and then eat them. "No thanks, Dean. I have plenty on my own plate."

"Then why the fascination with my fries?"

Seeing there was no other choice but to admit to Dean yet another of her quirks she quickly fessed up. "I just wanted to see if you eat them the right way, that's all. You're a dunker, like me."

"So let me get this straight, you don't think that pop music is terrible, but you do think there's a right way to eat French fries?" Dean asked, genuinely amused.

"Dean, I am well aware that I am not exactly normal. There's a reason I've never gone on many dates."

"If it makes you feel better, neither have I," he casually threw out, however Dean now understood their circumstances had been slightly different. He hadn't needed or wanted to date.

Unable to control her curiosity any longer she asked him, "Have you ever had a girlfriend, Dean?" When he didn't answer right away she backed off. "Forget I even asked. You don't have to answer that. It's not really any of my business."

Feeling embarrassed for being so completely tactless, she stared down at her plate, hoping he'd just say SOMETHING to end the awkward silence. Instead, Dean reached across the small table and quirked her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"I did, once. We lived together for almost a year," speaking about something Dean had barely even discussed with his own brother. Kate deserved to know that he wasn't exactly the same man she had met four years prior. That Dean had never been with a woman for more than a couple of weeks. If she was able to reveal uncomfortable things about herself, he should be able to do the same. He admired her ability to make herself vulnerable to him.

"And then I had to go back to hunting, and it was over."

Kate did her best to take the news in stride and not over react, although it was difficult not to. The fact that Dean had been with a woman for year was proof he was capable of commitment, and he pretty much admitted that it was his job that came between them.

"Then why go back, Dean? Why go back to something that took you away from a person you cared about? I don't understand why you couldn't just continue living a normal, less dangerous life."

So there it was. The question he had dreaded her asking. It wasn't something he particularly wanted to discuss with her, at least not yet. They really didn't know each other well enough for him to get into everything that happened to his mom, his dad, and Sam. However, it did occur to him that perhaps the best way to approach her question was to ask one of his own.

"Would you be able to just walk away from what you do?" he asked, and seeing her shake her head in the negative, he continued. "I did, and I came to realize the life I had with Lisa was a fraud. It wasn't me. I'm not a mechanic; I'm a hunter. And I will be until the day it kills me for good."


End file.
